


Someone reaching back for me

by Snow_Falls



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Chrom and Robin bond over their shitty dads, Dorks, Dorks in Love, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Intrigue, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2020-09-23 21:43:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 53,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20347192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow_Falls/pseuds/Snow_Falls
Summary: Plegia and Yilsse are at peace, and celebrating a newly formed friendship. But, not everything is as it seems. Robin uncovers a plot that means to use this new peace to strike at Yilsse and its Exalt. In order to stop it, and for reasons of his own, Robin turns to Chrom for help and proposes a plan so crazy it just might work.Or, fake dating to save our countries!





	1. Princes

**Author's Note:**

> I am back on my bullshit. I'm sure no one is surprised. 
> 
> I'm probably, like, the only person in the FE fandom right now writing Awakening instead of Three Houses, but we can't all have the Switch, or money. Some of us just have to play Awakening again for the 100th time, and then write fake dating AUs. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, I can almost totally guarantee the rating will change to E in later chapters. I'll update the tags, etc, just keep that in mind!!!
> 
> Please enjoy chapter 1!

Chrom tugged absentmindedly on his collar. He had grown up attending events like these, though not as frequently as his rank would suggest, his sister was never one for a show of opulence if it could be avoided, and his father was too busy warmongering to bother with them.

Still, sometimes it chaffed, figuratively, and literally, as it did now. Chrom didn’t appreciate how restrictive his outfit was. The material was stiff, and Chrom was used to freedom of movement, he would have felt better if he knew he could move more easily. Or, at least been able to have Falchion with him, but this was a ball, and weapons, even brought in by royalty, were frowned upon. 

“Would you stop fussing with that?” Lissa said, smacking him lightly on the arm.

Chrom sighed and dropped his hand. “I can’t help it,” he said. “Everything about this makes my hair stand on end. Doesn’t it feel as if we’ve walked into the lions den with nothing but our wits and bare hands?”

Lissa shot him a look, and then a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening. “Chrom, we talked about this before we came.” Then she smiled a little, “And, when have you ever been armed with ‘wit’?”

Chrom shot her a look, but chose to ignore the last comment, “I can’t shake that feeling. We’re in _Plegia_.”

She nudged him, “Someone will hear you,” Lissa said quietly. Then, in her regular speaking voice, “Maybe you should dance with someone.” She swept her gaze over the room, and Chrom saw the exact moment it snagged on someone, “Oh, how about him?”

Chrom decided to humour Lissa and followed her gaze. He looked across the sea of nobles, aristocrats, knights, and foreign royalty like himself. Everyone was dressed elegantly, gowns swept the floor and jackets flattered waists, everywhere jewels glittered, satin, and velvet shoes whispered across the marble floors.

Everyone looked marvellous, but when Chrom turned to see whom Lissa had singled out he didn’t doubt for a moment who she meant when he saw him.

There, standing next to a small refreshments table was a beautiful young man. Chrom had never seen him before, he was sure of that. He would have remembered someone like him. Chrom was struck dumb for a moment, and completely missed the smug smile Lissa shot him.

His younger sister nudged him again, this time harder. “Well? What are you standing here for? Talk to him.”

As if he had been waiting for instruction, Chrom moved at once.

The young man stood, a crystal glass in one hand, the other on the edge of the table, where his hip also rested. He was dressed in black velvets shot through with white trimmings. It was stunning on him, the details on the jacket, the tiny pearl buttons that were only outshone by his fair hair.

When Chrom reached the table, the young man turned eyes like amber on him. Chrom swallowed.

“Hello,” he said.

The young man looked at him in surprise. “Hello.” He said, after a pause. He looked wary, like he thought Chrom might attack him.

That was entirely the wrong note he wanted to strike with this attractive young man. Quickly, he said, “It’s a, uh, it’s a lovely night for an evening – _this _evening.”

The young man’s look of wary uncertainty turned to confusion. It wasn’t at all the progress Chrom had hoped to make, but at least he seemed less alarmed, maybe. Chrom felt his face burn, he prayed to Naga to end his misery.

“I meant, this evening – event – is lovely, don’t you think?”

Marginally better. Why was Chrom so nervous? He took a breath and considered jumping off the nearest balcony as his only way to salvage this interaction.

To Chrom’s utter amazement, the young man smiled. It was still uncertain, but it was a smile, and it made Chrom feel warm for an entirely different reason.

“It’s a very nice night for an evening.” There was just a hint of teasing light in his eyes. Chrom liked that very much.

“Oh,” Chrom said, suddenly remember his manners. “Please forgive my rudeness, I didn’t introduce myself. I am Chrom, Prince of Ylisse.” He bowed low.

The young man waited for him to straighten, and then bowed in return. “My name is Robin, I – “

Seemingly from nowhere an older gentleman knocked into Robin, making him suddenly pitch forward, spilling the water in his glass. Chrom, who was directly in front of him, caught both Robin, and all the water.

There was a small fuss made when the gentleman’s friend came over to make his apologizes and escort the man out, he had clearly had too much to drink. When he left Robin turned panicked eyes on Chrom.

“I am _so sorry_,” he said in a rush. “Forgive me, I – “

Chrom waved his apologies away, taking the napkin Robin offered him and patting himself dry. He was almost glad it had happened, because now they had both misstepped, so to speak. It made Chrom feel better, at any rate.

“Please,” Chrom said cutting into Robin’s apologies. “It’s only water.”

Robin put the glass down on the table and looked at him mournfully, a sweet expression that was definitely worth getting a little wet for.

“Really?”

Chrom opened his mouth to say ‘yes,’ and then changed his mind. “No,” he said. He watched Robin’s expression change, he gathered his courage and rushed on. “But, you could make it up to me -- with a dance?” Chrom placed the damp napkin on the table without looking away from Robin.

Robin smiled again, slow and lovely. Gods, why was he so lovely?

“It would be my honour, your Highness.” Robin took Chrom’s outstretched hand. 

On the down side, they both wore gloves; on the up side Chrom could still feel Robin’s warmth through them.

The dance in that moment was an easy one, straightforward and uncomplicated, which was wonderful because it meant Chrom’s attention could be focused directly on Robin.

“This is your first time in Plegia, Highness?” Robin said, letting go of his hand, turning, and taking the other.

“Yes.” Chrom said, stepping forward, while Robin stepped back. “It was rather unsafe for Ylissean royalty before.”

Robin frowned a little, “Yes, that is true.” A slight pause, then, “Do you truly support the peace then?”

“Yes,” Chrom said again, without any hesitation. “It was hard won, and I wish this conflict with Plegia had never happened. I would take back my father’s decisions if I could. Making war with Plegia did neither its people nor ours any good.”

They let go of each other’s hands, stepped around each other, and turned. Coming back together, they took each other’s right hands once more.

“I’m glad you think so,” Robin said. “I agree completely, it was senseless, and caused nothing but suffering.” His gaze was steady on Chrom’s when he said, “You’re not what I imagined.”

Chrom raised his eyebrows, “How did you imagine me?”

Robin smiled again. “What do you think of King Gangrel?” He asked, obviously deflecting. Chrom considered pressing the issue, but decided against it.

He thought of his words carefully before answering, exercising caution, for once. “I think if he continues down this path we have a real chance for lasting peace between our countries.” Then he added, “I’m not sure about his heir though, I’ve heard strange things about him.”

Robin gave him a look Chrom didn’t know how to read. “His heir?” He said.

Chrom couldn’t remember his name. Ronald? Rufus? Romulus? He considered asking Robin what the newly appointed heir’s name was, but quickly decided against it, he didn’t need to look any more foolish than he already had.

“That Gangrel has named someone with tenuous ties to the royal family is strange, especially when he has relatives that are more closely related.” Chrom explained. “And, I’ve heard the man appointed is some kind of dark sorcerer.” 

“I see,” Robin said.

“But, I will reserve my judgement for when I have met him.”

“That’s very generous of you, Highness.”

Chrom winced a little, “Please,” he said, “Call me Chrom.”

Robin gave him another of those unreadable looks, but they way he said his name made Chrom forget that. “Chrom.”

It was nice, coming from Robin.

The dance ended, and another slower melody took its place. This one meant holding ones partner more intimately, Chrom looked at Robin for permission. He nodded his head; Chrom was elated.

They didn’t speak for a short while, they moved together, their gazes pulled toward each other as if drawn by some invisible force. It was strange to Chrom that he had taken a liking to Robin so quickly, so easily. That he found him attractive was obvious, but Chrom wasn’t – usually – one to lose his head over a pretty face. At least, not to this extent. And, this close, Chrom had a hard time not admiring the curve of his lips.

What was it about Robin?

“You’re an excellent dancer, Chrom.”

“You’re an excellent flatter, Robin.”

He laughed. “It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.”

“I think you’ll find the truth is often the best kind of flattery.” Chrom said. “You’re beautiful.”

What was wrong with him? This was entirely unlike Chrom. He watched rich colour come over Robin’s face and couldn’t regret his words, Robin really was beautiful. But, Chrom needed to calm himself, this was getting out of hand now.

“Thank you.” Robin said, softly, his gaze very direct.

Just then, an attendant came forward. “Apologizes, your Highness,” he said. Chrom nodded, and Robin turned. “I was asked to give you this,” and he handed Robin a slip of paper. Chrom let go of Robin so he could accept the note.

He read it, nodded at the attendant who bowed his head and excused himself. “I’m afraid I’ve been called away,” Robin said, looking and sounding apologetic.

“Will you be back?”

“Yes.”

“Then, look for me.”

Robin gave him a little smile; there was something almost sad about it. “If you still want me to, then I will.”

“Of course I will,” Chrom said, confused by his words.

Robin didn’t say anything else. Just bowed, “If you’ll excuse me, your Highness.”

Chrom returned the bow, and Robin left.

He watched Robin make his way across the room and vanish behind the numerous guests. He sighed.

Only a moment later Lissa was by his side. She smiled at Chrom knowingly; it made his face feel hot. “Stop that,” he said.

“Stop what?” She was grinning now.

“That,” Chrom said, trying for stern, and completely failing.

She laughed. “Oh, big brother,” she said. “So, when’s the wedding?”

Chrom flushed harder. “What?” He sputtered. “Shut up.”

Lissa’s laughter rang out, completely unchecked. Chrom scowled. He very much wanted to pull her hair, but he couldn’t, not in public, anyway.

This was new, not the teasing, they were siblings after all, but this type of teasing. Neither of them had really had much experience with romance.

“So,” Lissa asked, still annoyingly amused, “who is he?”

“His name is Robin.”

A pause, and when Chrom didn’t elaborate, Lissa pressed, “Yes, but _who _is he?”

Chrom opened his mouth, and then closed it. He had been so caught up in the euphoria of speaking to such a lovely person, that for a moment he had existed in a world where titles were unimportant. Chrom prayed he hadn’t just made a huge social blunder, he had no idea what Robin’s title was or where he was from, he had most certainly been at least a little rude for not addressing him by anything other than his given name.

Lissa looked at him in disbelief. “Chrom!” She sounded exasperated. “How could you not ask? This is ridiculous even for you!” She said. They were bickering in loud whispers.

“I’ll ask!” Chrom said defensively. “I’ll simply ask someone who Robin is and apologize for my familiarity later!” Problem solved, Chrom wasn’t a complete moron, after all. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Lissa shook her head and sighed. “Oh, Chrom.” She said. “At this rate I may be the only heir you’ll ever have.”

Chrom felt his whole face heat up. He shot Lissa a glare and opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything a bell began to chime. The sound was high pitched and it cut through the chatter, the music going silent at the same time as all the guests. Everyone turned to watch as King Gangrel walked in from a side entrance, to the part of the room where the band stood.

Gangrel raised his hand in greeting as he passed, his court following respectfully behind him. Chrom thought he saw – but no, could it be – ?

There was just a flash of fair hair, and suddenly it was gone. Chrom blinked, but was soon distracted when Gangrel began to speak.

“Welcome, welcome!” Gangrel held out his arms, as if he meant to embrace the whole room. His gaze swept over them, and Chrom was sure he had taken note of him and Lissa. There was a manic glint in Gangrel’s eyes that always unsettled Chrom, and while it wasn’t as bright as Chrom had seen it, it was still there. “Tonight we celebrate a most auspicious occasion!” His voice boomed, carrying easily over the crowd and reaching the far corners of the room. “Only a handful of years ago it would have been unthinkable to gather as we have now, but for the betterment of our two countries, for our peoples, Ylisse and Plegia have put aside our differences and declared friendship.” He paused and allowed the guests a moment to clap. Again his gaze swept over Chrom and Lissa, and then he beckoned them forward.

He and Lissa exchanged a glance. It was informal. If Gangrel had meant to address their guests as he was doing, he should have told Chrom and Lissa earlier, and have them enter together. The way he was gesturing them forward now was the way he would summon his own subjects, and not foreign royalty who were half the reason for this whole event. Chrom pushed down the annoyance and wary distrust sitting in his stomach and stepped forward with his sister, the guests parting immediately for both of them.

Chrom and Lissa stood next to Gangrel as he continued his speech. He knew Lissa hadn’t missed the slight either.

“We will take this fine occasion to present our heir to the people.” Gangrel stepped to the side and Chrom turned slightly to see a tall, frankly, unpleasant looking man standing behind the King. He did seem the type to use dark magic, although he was older than Chrom had heard.

But, he too stepped aside, and Chrom felt his stomach swoop. As if he had missed a step coming down a flight of stairs.

Gangrel had not meant the tall unpleasant man at all; he had meant the young man standing behind him, dressed in black velvet shot through with white thread, complimenting his pale hair that was now adorned with a simple circlet of silver. He hadn’t been wearing it earlier, and Chrom wondered if that had been intentional.

Now, Robin stepped forward and Chrom had no need at all to ask what his title was, because Gangrel was announcing it, and anyway Chrom already knew.

“Our heir,” Gangrel said, grinning, the manic light in his eyes brighter than ever. “Prince Robin of Plegia.”

Chrom took a deep breath.

He was out on a balcony off the hall, the first empty one he had found. The night was pleasantly cool; the sky was clear, the stars out, and the moon half full. Chrom was looking out on the courtyard, he wondered if he had made the right decision by asking to be alone.

Once Gangrel’s speech was over, Lissa had taken his arm and pulled him aside. She had looked at him with concern, “Are you all right?” She had asked.

Was Chrom all right?

He wasn’t sure. It felt as if a ledge he had confidentially walked out on had suddenly crumbled under his feet. Chrom felt like a fool for walking out on that ledge in the first place, especially when he hadn’t tested it first before throwing all his weight on it. It was his fault if he was surprised by the fact that it suddenly gave way.

Chrom heard the door to the balcony open. The music that was only slightly muffled by the glass doors grew louder, then muffled once more. Without looking back Chrom said, “Did you at least bring me some champagne?” It was probably better that he talk to his sister.

“I didn’t, but I could, if you like.”

Chrom turned so quickly he nearly upset his balance.

It wasn’t Lissa who had spoken, and it wasn’t Lissa he was staring at wide-eyed. It was the young man Chrom had completely lost his head over, the one who had smiled at him so sweetly.

Robin stood only a couple of steps from the door, his hands were clasped in front of himself, and the circlet gleamed atop his pale hair.

Robin took a step forward, and Chrom took a wary step back, bumping into the balustrade. He thought Robin looked hurt at his reaction, but it could have been a trick of the light, because the next moment Robin raised his empty hands, placating, his expression was unreadable.

“I suppose you’re not here to dance,” Chrom said a little warily, “Your Highness.”

Robin shook his head, but his expression remained the same. “It wasn’t my intention to lie – “ He began.

Chrom raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Robin clasped his hands again and took another step forward. “When I realized you didn’t know who I was, I thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know you.” Chrom gave him a look, but said nothing; he waited for Robin to finish. “I’ve heard about you, and I wanted to confirm you were – are – as people say.” Robin paused, still Chrom waited. “And,” Robin added, “I wanted you to like me.”

Chrom wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. “You – what?” He blurted.

He watched as Robin took another step forward, they were only a couple feet apart now. He looked at Chrom directly in the eyes.

“I wanted you to like me,” Robin repeated. “Because I’d like to ask for your hand in marriage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Chrom seems way too smooth, it's because he is. I totally recognize that, I just came up with that ballroom scene and wanted to keep it. Your regularly scheduled awkward dork will appear in all subsequent chapters. =) 
> 
> I'm also pretty sure we know jack about Robin's mom, so I'm just making stuff up. And, even if we do know stuff about her, I'm still going to make it up. 
> 
> So, who's ready for all the hallmarks of this particular trope??? I cannot wait for all the required public affection and then conflicting feelings/growing attraction. Oh, fake dating, I'll never get tired of you~
> 
> Wanna chat about these dorks? Follow me on [tumblr](https://nightofviolet.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/snow_falls4) for more of my nonsense!


	2. The Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this fic I'm going to try something new, and that is - serious - ACTUAL plot. It's wild, I know. For me plot is usually something that happens, or doesn't, in the background as I write character's feelings. I'm going to try to do both this time, wish me luck! 
> 
> Please enjoy chapter 2!

_‘The secret to being a great tactician is knowing when to use your head, when to trust your gut, and when to follow your heart.’ _

_Robin was lying out in the sun, his eyes closed, a cool breeze lifting his hair, and his mother’s words running through his head. How often had he thought about that advice since she had passed? Robin didn’t know. The words remained intact, preserved in amber, but the voice, his mother’s voice, was a distant memory. _

_His mother wouldn’t approve of his plans, but then again, if she were here to approve or disapprove, this particular tactic probably wouldn’t be necessary. _

_Or maybe it still would be, his mother being alive wouldn’t have changed the depth of Gangrel’s madness. _

_Another cool breeze blew over Robin; he closed his eyes and let himself feel the chill. _

_What he was doing was also madness, and he wasn’t sure he was thinking about this sensibly at all. Just what was driving Robin right now? Was it his logical mind? The fury burning in his gut? Or was it the ache in his heart? _

** **

** **

** **

Robin’s words were met by silence from Chrom. He stared at him as if Robin had suggested he undress and re-join the ball nude.

That wasn’t even a fair comparison though, because that was simple and over quickly, what Robin was proposing was by far much more difficult.

Chrom opened and closed his mouth a few times before he managed to get out, “_What_?”

Robin didn’t know Chrom well at all, but he felt as if this evening was confirming something fundamental about Chrom. He had heard the young Prince was a truly genuine person, that he was kind-hearted, and straightforward, so far that all seemed true. He was much more open than Robin would have guessed, Chrom didn’t seem to be making any kind of attempt to hide his feelings, or tamp down his reactions. He seemed genuinely baffled by this turn of events.

This seemed, to Robin, to imply he was going about this the wrong way.

“Listen,” Robin began, and Chrom stared at him like he was afraid Robin would suggest he not only undress, but pour champagne on himself too. “There are things happening, plots, in Plegia and Yilsse. I want to stop them, but I’ll need your help.” Robin took another step forward, and was gratified to see Chrom’s expression had changed. “I don’t know all the details, but I’m sure I can uncover them, and help you too.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Chrom asked, “What does this have to do with marriage?”

“It’s the best cover.” Robin explained. There was another reason, but it was so far in his plan he wasn’t sure he should mention it just yet. He had agonized over this part of his plans. What he said was true, but it meant a certain amount of acting Robin wasn’t exactly looking forward to. Never mind the fact that Chrom was stupidly charming and that his hands on Robin’s waist had been strong and sure, this still wasn’t something Robin wanted for himself. But, one of the things this plan would buy him, if it worked, was freedom. “We’ll have to speak regularly, and privately, and it might deter Gangrel from making particularly dangerous moves. And,” he added, hurriedly, “we wouldn’t need to actually be married, a betrothal, engagement is what I’m suggesting. Just until we stop Gangrel’s plots, and then we can call the engagement off.”

Chrom was looking at him as if Robin were speaking too quickly in a language he only vaguely understood. He shook his head, “I still don’t understand, what exactly do you think is happening?”

Robin took a small breath. There was no delicate way to put this, no way to soften the blow, “I believe – I _know_ – there is a plot to assassinate your sister, the Exalt of Yilsse.”

Another short silence. And, then Chrom was moving. Robin took a step back in surprise, but Chrom stopped just short of him. “My sister? When? Where? How do you know this?”

Robin explained. He told Chrom about riffling through his father’s things and coming across letters buried under old boring documents in his desk. “I wanted to take them, copy them out, something, but my father came in sooner than I anticipated. I put the letters back, and when I went again later, they were gone.”

Chrom was frowning thoughtfully, “That – “ he paused, “doesn’t seem impossible, but that means you have no evidence?”

This was the tricky part, because that was technically true. “I don’t have the letters, no, but I remember what they said.” Robin continued, cutting across Chrom who opened his mouth again, “There’s someone cooperating with Gangrel in Yilsse. Feeding him information about Exalt Emmeryn’s movements.”

The look on Chrom’s face was almost enough for Robin to wish he could take his words back, or at least brace him somehow, because he looked completely shocked. Worse than that, he looked wrecked with betrayal.

Robin watched as emotions chased themselves across Chrom’s face, one after the other, none of them pleasant, and then he shook his head again, more forcefully. “I can’t believe – who would – we _trust _everyone – “ Chrom broke off with a small sound of frustration. He turned and walked over to the balustrade. Robin watched him rest his hands on it, then slowly lower himself so his elbows rested on the railing too. Chrom dropped his head between his hands.

After a moment of indecision, Robin slowly walked over to him. He was careful to leave a fair distance between them. He thought about reaching out and touching Chrom’s shoulder, the one he had heard carried the symbol of Naga. It was stitched there, into the fabric of his clothing.

Robin didn’t reach out, instead he spoke. “I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. “But, if you help me, we can stop it.”

A pause, and then Chrom lifted his head. His eyes were a very deep blue. “Why should I trust you?”

It seemed to Robin like this question was a direct result of being given the information that someone of his household was a traitor. Chrom might have just taken Robin’s word for it if he hadn’t heard about this first. Robin felt a little like he had broken something, like he had shattered a child’s simple belief in fairy tales. So, it was only fair he tell Chrom what led to all this upfront and without artifice.

“Because,” Robin said, keeping his gaze on Chrom’s, “I need your help too. I think Gangrel had my mother assassinated.”

*

Chrom fussed with the collar of his jacket, and then smoothed his hands down the front, knowing it was unnecessary but unable to stop himself. He wasn’t an actor, deception was not his forte, but he had agreed to this mad plan, and he couldn’t back out now.

The guards pushed the doors to the throne room open when Chrom and his party were close, and they walked in without faltering. Chrom did his best to school his expression, but he knew his companions were not putting in as much effort. Lissa’s worry was obvious, and Fredrick’s disapproval was coming off him in waves.

When Robin had first proposed this scheme, Chrom had argued long and hard for the ability to tell Lissa and Fredrick of it, and Robin had finally relented. But, when he had gone to them to discuss what he was about to do, he found he was withholding the greater part. Chrom told them only the surface level of what was going on, though, if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure their reactions would be any better if he had explained everything.

They crossed the length of the hall calmly. The entirety of the Plegian court was present, as well as the other dignitaries Emmeryn had sent. This too had been calculated, it was to their benefit if there be more witnesses, but it wasn’t reassuring. Chrom was used to being scrutinized, he was a prince, but he had never done anything like this.

Although they moved calmly, Chrom felt his blood thrum. His heart was beating hard in his chest, and the anticipation he felt was not unlike what he felt before he squared off against an opponent in battle. He had to clench his fists to stop them from shaking.

At the foot of the dais, they stopped. Gangrel sat on a large throne of dark wood wrought through with gold; it was polished to a high shine. On his immediate left stood his close advisor, the Lady Aversa, and on his right, seated on a smaller but just as ornate throne, was Robin. The unpleasant man Chrom had mistaken for Robin earlier stood behind the young heir, his father, Chrom knew. They all regarded him as Chrom swept into an easy bow, dusting off his courtly manners and finding they weren’t quite as rusty as he had first guessed they would be. Chrom supposed all those hours having them drilled into his head as a child had really paid off. His companions sank into their own courteous greetings, and then as he straightened, Gangrel spoke.

“Well,” Gangrel prompted, “you keep us all in suspense, young Prince.”

Chrom took a breath, he was tempted to look at Robin, but instead kept his gaze trained on the King. “Thank you for granting this audience on such short notice.” Chrom began. He paused for just a brief moment, steeling himself, feeling both his sister and friend tense on either side of him. “I have no wish to take more of your time than necessary. I have come to you now in order to seek permission to have Prince Robin’s hand in marriage.”

_“You said you were asking for my hand, but I’m the one who has to face down the court?” Chrom asked, a little dryly. _

_Robin had turned eyes that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight on him, “Trust me.”_

He must trust Robin, because here he was, playing along with his mad scheme.

Utter silence met his words.

And, then, as one, voices began speaking. Chrom saw from his periphery heads turn as almost everyone present began to speak at once. There were raised voices and hushed murmurs, but no one on the dais said a thing, they all looked at Chrom with wildly different expressions. Lord Validar, Robin’s father, was glaring at him, his hands were on the back of the throne his son sat in, and he gripped the wood tightly. Aversa, the King’s tactician looked at him almost as if she were impressed, Robin regarded him calmly, and Gangrel looked supremely amused, like Chrom had just told a good joke.

After a long moment in which Chrom heard all manner of comments thrown out, Gangrel raised his hands for silence. In the quiet Gangrel leaned forward, he tilted his head a little as he looked at Chrom, still smiling.

“You are aware this is most improper, young Prince.” It wasn’t quite a question, Gangrel knew Chrom knew, but he said it anyway, and Chrom couldn’t even fault him, he was right. This was borderline insulting, but propriety wasn’t what Robin had had in mind when he suggested this tactic. Chrom nodded his head once, and Gangrel leaned back. He turned to Robin, “You are the owner of the hand in question,” he said. “What have you to say?”

Chrom finally let himself really look at him. Robin, who had been gripping the armrests of his seat, the only indication of his unease, let go, pressing his palms against the warm wood instead, and pushed himself up. He walked purposefully over to Chrom.

Chrom held out his hand without thinking, watching as Robin looked at him in surprise, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before he took it and stood beside him.

“I wish to accept, Your Grace.”

Another murmur broke out among the court. It became obvious now that this was not impulse on Chrom’s part, Robin had obviously known he would do this, had agreed to it being done in the first place. It did not put them in a favourable light, but it did put added pressure on the king and council to accept. What Chrom had done was not proper, but in this time of delicate peace, it would be disastrous to outright reject his request.

_“Ask him just before you go.” They stood out on the balcony, both of them leaning against the balustrade. “We have only just brokered peace, rejecting an offer of marriage would be an insult, and disadvantageous to both sides. At the very least we back him into a corner, and if he doesn’t accept outright, he will be forced to consider a betrothal, either way, we press our advantage.” _

“You are acting on behalf of your Haildom, Prince Chrom?” Gangrel asked, and Chrom nodded. His smile widened a little. “We are not certain that is what your sister imagined when she gave you that power, but that is hardly important now. You and your country will be held accountable.” Gangrel didn’t look away from Chrom as he said, “We accept. If our Prince consents, then so do we.”

“I consent.” Said Robin loudly and clearly.

Another murmur went through the council, Gangrel still didn’t look away. This wasn’t a decision he should have made without consulting them, but Chrom looked over the people sitting and standing by their king, he thought, from the looks of it, most of them would have approved anyway.

“In Yilsse,” Chrom said, pitching his voice to carry over those still speaking, they all quieted and looked at him. “It is customary to bring our betrothed to meet our family. I humbly request that Prince Robin accompany us back, to be formally introduced as my betrothed, and to meet my sister.”

Gangrel looked at him like he had made the most obvious and uneducated move in a game of chess. “Yes, we are aware,” he said. “If our Prince wishes to accompany you, he has our leave.” He turned his piercing gaze on Robin. “Be sure to write, we want to hear all about your stay with our Yilssean friends.”

Robin bowed his head, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Gangrel made a little dismissive gesture. They all bowed, and then took a step backward before turning. Letting go of Robin’s hand to let him turn, Chrom took it again as they began to walk. Chrom did it partly for appearances, partly to reassure Robin, and partly to reassure himself.

It was a long way back to the doors, and Chrom walked feeling eyes on his back. He was half sure that at any moment Gangrel would call them all back, laugh in their faces, and proclaim that he saw right through them.

But no one stopped them. The doors were opened for them, and they walked through with the buzz from the Plegian court escorting them out. It was a relief to have the doors close and block out the noise. Chrom let go of Robin’s hand once they were in the corridor, but he offered him his arm instead. Robin took it and they walked in silence.

Chrom became aware, after a long moment where he resisted the urge to slump against the wall in fatigue, the adrenaline in him rapidly draining out, that the silence they all walked in was very tense.

He knew Lissa was concerned, and Fredrick was…upset. He thought again of telling them what was really happening, but as they made their way to their chambers, when he opened his mouth, what Chrom actually said was, “I’ll be along to finalize arrangements for our departure soon.”

Lissa and Fredrick looked at him. Both of them with expressions as easily readable as his childhood primers. Chrom felt a twinge of guilt, but he ignored it. If it turned out that he needed them to know, he would simply tell them, but he didn’t want to risk this secret getting out, it was imperative that no one suspected the real nature of his and Robin’s relationship. His friend and sister exchanged a look, and then nodded.

“We’ll see you soon,” Lissa said, and then hesitated. “Um, congratulations.”

Chrom couldn’t quite keep the surprise off his face when she said that. He would have to do better than that in the future. He tried for a smile, “Thank you.”

Robin beside him did a much better job. Warmly, he said, “Thank you, Princess.”

“Oh,” Lissa said, “Please, call me Lissa.”

“Then, please call me Robin,” he gestured, including Fredrick too.

Tight lipped, Fredrick said, “A joyous occasion, congratulations, Highnesses.” He turned to Lissa, “We should prepare our things.”

Lissa nodded, then they walked past Chrom and Robin down the hall. The two young men watched them go for a moment. Then Robin spoke, “Shall we?”

“Yes.”

They headed to Robin’s quarters, as soon as the door closed behind him Chrom let out a deep sigh. Robin let go of him to cross the room to a small drink table, Chrom watched him pour two glasses of water, and then wordlessly offer Chrom one, which he took gratefully. He wasn’t even this shaky after battle. He prayed things would be easier in Yilsse.

Robin drained his glass in one, and then set it down on a small table near a chair in the sitting room. Chrom glanced around; his rooms were simpler than he would have thought. The furniture was of obvious quality, the couch, chairs, and tables, but they were modest, and Chrom wondered if the room had been redecorated at Robin’s request.

"I can't believe that worked." Chrom stood by the unlit fireplace, leaning against the mantle. 

“This peace Gangrel suggested is just a ruse, but it's important enough to him to go to all this trouble to establish it, then it follows he'll go to more trouble to keep it.” Robin said, turning back to Chrom. "You did well in there," he added. 

“I’m not sure that’s true, but thank you.”

There was a pause that wasn’t wholly comfortable.

“I know this is all,” Robin gestured vaguely, “trying.” Chrom almost laughed, that was an understatement. “But, I meant what I said, I really believe this is the best way to save your sister.”

Any humour Chrom had found in the situation was gone at those words.

“Yes,” Chrom said, “I believe you.” Robin gave him a look that Chrom thought was like surprise. “After what you told me about your mother, I understand why this is so important to you.”

He watched emotions play over Robin’s face for a moment before his expression shuttered, became unreadable.

“I – “ Robin began, “That’s not all.” Robin clasped his hands in front of himself, he said, “This peace, it’s important to me. I want justice for my mother, but ultimately, I want an end to fighting, a true end. I know you and your family will do what they can to achieve that.” Chrom nodded, he saw Robin hesitant for just a second before he continued. “Once Gangrel’s plans are foiled and he is exposed as the unfit king he is, I doubt my claim will hold. And, that’s what I want. Gangrel has a cousin I think would be much more fit for the Plegian throne, she's next in line.” Robin added, leaning against the back of a chair he stood behind. “Maybe you could arrange a real marriage contract with her, if you wanted one.”

Despite the fact that Chrom was well aware that this was all part of a plan, a deception, he still felt something like disappointment sink in his stomach at Robin’s words. Which was ridiculous. What had he thought would happen? And, why did he care? Chrom wasn’t interested in a marriage without mutual feelings anyway.

“Let’s just concentrate on helping our families for now.” Chrom said, wanting to steer away from this topic. “You should pack your things, we leave early tomorrow morning.” Robin nodded and Chrom turned to leave. At the door he hesitated. “I still want to believe you’re wrong somehow, that this isn’t – “ He broke off. It felt like a childish desire, like wishing for bad things not to exist in the world; pointless.

“I understand.” Robin said after a beat. Chrom looked at him over his shoulder, his hand hovering over the handle on the door. “I wish things were different too.”

Chrom didn't have anything to say to that, he left Robin’s rooms then and went to his sister’s knowing Fredick would still be there, and knowing too that they would both be waiting for him. When he knocked on the door and heard Lissa’s voice telling him to come in, he wasn’t surprised to see he was right.

Lissa sat in a plush armchair by the window, Fredrick stood by her, clearly arrested in the middle of pacing. They looked much the same as they had earlier, since they heard about Chrom’s intentions the day before. Fredick agitated, Lissa concerned. They exchanged a brief glance as Chrom walked into the room. If he hadn’t already guessed they had just been talking about him, that look would have told him.

Fredrick clasped his hands behind his back, and said without preamble, “It’s not too late to call it off.”

Chrom raised his eyebrows, “I disagree, I think it was too late the moment the words left my mouth.”

“You know this is a gross abuse of power,” Fredrick said, like he couldn’t hold the words back. “The Exalt never meant for you to make decisions like this when she gave you the authority of the Crown in Plegia. And, why must you do this _now_? Why not state your intent to court him as is proper? My lord, I simply cannot see how – _why _– “

Chrom lifted a hand. Fredrick had said this all already. In a different manner, with slightly different words, but they had argued this point before. “My sister will understand.” Chrom said, knowing that she would. Guilt pricked at his insides, because Fredick was right, he was abusing her trust, her good nature. But, it was better to lie to her than lose her. “And, Robin – I can’t leave him. From the moment I saw him – “ He had told Robin it was easy to flatter with the truth, and it seemed that it was easier to lie with the truth too. “I think it’s – fate.”

A small pause followed his words in which all three people in the room were surprised by Chrom’s words.

Fredrick looked like he wanted to keep arguing, but Lissa cut in. She stood up and put a hand on Fredrick’s arm before she stepped passed him to Chrom.

“We’re just worried about you, Chrom. But, if this will make you happy,” she shot Fredrick a look; he glanced away, staring hard at the floor. “Then we support your decision. I think Robin would make a wonderful Prince Consort.” She gave him a knowing smile, looking more like her usual teasing self, “Plus, you obviously like him.”

With the feeling of relief and gratitude came more guilt. He pushed it down and away, and tried for a smile that wasn’t half as hard to summon as he thought it might be. Truly, he was glad for their support.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. Then, “How mad do you think Em will be?”

“Oh, _very_.”

“Should I bring back her favourite sweets?”

“You should bring back her favourite everything,” Lissa said crossing her arms over her chest. “This is going to be worse than the time you hid all those kittens in your room.”

“I took care of them!” Chrom said, remembering the litter of tiny black and orange cats he had unsuccessfully tried to hide from his older sister. He had cat hair on his clothing for weeks.

He looked over at Fredrick; he still didn’t look convinced. Chrom sighed a little, “It’ll work out, Fredrick, you’ll see.” He said, “And,” Chrom added, “I promise to consult you before making any more big, possibly politically disastrous decisions in the future.”

Fredrick gave him a look, then said, dryly. “Perhaps you could endeavour to _stop _making politically disastrous decisions altogether.”

Chrom smiled a little, “I won’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Fredrick shook his head, but it was with the air of his old perpetually exasperated mood. He was, Chrom thought, the one who often had to save Chrom and Lissa from their own selves.

“And, have you packed yet, Chrom?”

Hearing Fredrick call him by his name told him definitively that Fredrick wasn’t upset anymore. He only ever called him by his title in public, or when he was cross with him.

“I have not.”

Fredrick sighed, long, and suffering. “Then we have work to do.”

“Yes,” Chrom agreed, “we certainly do.”


	3. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so wild to me to read over my own stuff and notice how much my writing style has changed and, hopefully, improved, from when I wrote my first chrobin fic. :')
> 
> Anyway, I listened to so much [Dreams](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrZRURcb1cM) while writing this, it's a wonderful song, do recommend.
> 
> Please enjoy chapter 3!

The trip to Yilsse started out rather awkwardly.

No one knew quite what to make of Robin, the young prince Chrom had suddenly taken as his betrothed.

The Yilssean party Chrom had come with was quite small, and it meant that Robin was in constant contact with everyone. Fredrick was still obviously suspicious of him, but Lissa had warmed to him right away. Robin had summoned a small flame for her to toast cheese on one morning and since then Robin had her unconditional friendship. Robin didn’t have any siblings, but being around Lissa was what he imagined having a younger sister of his own might be like. It was nice.

The awkwardness came from everyone else.

Chrom seemed to be avoiding him, and when they did have to spend time in each other’s company, he acted as if they were still in front of the Plegian court; Chrom treated Robin with impeccable and impersonal manners. It was a far cry from the comforting warmth he had first been greeted with, and Robin tried not to think about how that made him feel.

The fact that Chrom’s party was so small came as a surprise, which Robin realized later, wouldn’t be surprising at all to anyone who knew Chrom even a little. They traveled lightly, simply, with only an honour guard and no attendants. Everyone did work in the camp, which Robin welcomed, it felt more natural to him to be able to do things for himself rather than have someone wait on him. But, when he came into close proximity to any group conversations were hushed, and a tense, if polite, silence fell. As if they were simply waiting for Robin to move along so they could comfortably continue their conversations.

“I didn’t think the Yilssean envoy would travel so lightly,” Robin said to Lissa on one of the first evenings they spent camping out.

“Oh, well,” Lissa said, assembling a pile of wood for fire, carefully laying out tinder of soft moss among the logs. “We’re all part of the Shepherds, so we’ve gotten used to it.”

“Shepherds?”

“Didn’t Chrom tell you?” Lissa looked up at him, pausing in an attempt to spark the flint.

“No.”

She gave him a look then Robin wasn’t sure how to read, but it was gone the next second as she smiled kindly and deftly sparked the flint. “It’s a band of volunteer fighters who seek to help and protect the people of Yilsse.” The fire was now burning without any need of further assistance, Lissa got up and sat on a bedroll she was using as a cushion. “We’ve had a lot of raiders along the boarder recently, so we decided to do something about them.”

“We?” Robin asked.

“Yes, we, Your Highness.”

It wasn’t Lissa who replied, it was Fredrick. He came carrying bowls of something still lightly steaming. He sat on Lissa’s other side, directly on the ground, and handed his princess one of the bowls.

Robin caught his gaze and was almost tempted to look away, but he held it instead. He didn’t know how to convince Fredrick to trust him, he didn’t think anything he said would be enough, he would have to show him that he really did mean well. Until that happened, he would have to get used to the looks of distrust Fredrick shot him. Though, to his credit, Fredrick was always unfailingly deferential.

“The raiders come from Plegia,” Robin said, and it wasn’t a question. This slow erosion of the Yilssean people, sweeping through of vulnerable civilians, was part of why a peace between their two countries had been so thoroughly embraced. Gangrel had promised to heighten security on the Plegian boarder so these bandits would not come through, which Robin was sure meant nothing. There was no doubt in his mind that these bandits came to wreck havoc on the Yilsseans at the Plegian King’s behest.

“Yes.”

Robin looked up. Coming to sit on the other side of Robin, also carrying two bowls that still steamed was Chrom. Robin sat at the end of a sizable log he had dragged over to the fire earlier, and Chrom sat carefully at the other end. Chrom offered Robin one of the bowls, which he took with a careful, but genuine smile of thanks. Chrom smiled back at him, like he couldn’t help it.

“Will you continue the Shepherds?” Robin asked, glancing up at Chrom as he stirred the thick stew with crude wooden spoon Lissa handed him.

Chrom sat his own bowl of stew on his knee; he cradled it in both hands and spoke with his eyes on the fire. “Presumably the need for them will be gone with the peace treaty. But, if my people need me, then yes, I will do what I can to help them.”

There was something about the very serious and determined way Chrom said this that made Robin unable to look away from him. The firelight shone on Chrom’s dark hair, it played shadows across the skin of his bare arm. Robin thought about reaching out, tracing a finger along the mark of Naga, which was just as the rumours had said, except they hadn’t mentioned the way the muscle swelled under it.

When Chrom turned to look at him, Robin looked away.

“I’ll help too.” Robin felt all their eyes on him. He stopped idly stirring his food and looked up, glancing at all three of them. “It’s my people that are causing yours harm, it’s only right that I do what I can too.”

There was a slight pause. Then Chrom smiled at him.

“We welcome any assistance you could provide us.”

Robin smiled back.

After that, the rest of the trip went more smoothly. Things were quiet on the border, more than one person in their party remarked on how unusual that was. It had been a hard few months, and no one had really appreciated how much of a difference it made to have all the attacks suddenly stop. They were all cautiously optimistic.

And, Chrom had stopped treating Robin like he was a dignitary he was worried about insulting. He wasn’t as relaxed as he was with the others, but he wasn’t as stiff as he had been. Robin found it easy to relax in turn. He found, to his surprise, that the last few days of their trip to the capital of Yilsse were actually enjoyable; they were fun. Chrom, Lissa, and Fredrick bickered with the familiarity of family and old friends, and Robin found himself pulled into these arguments on more than one occasion.

“Robin,” Chrom said in an exasperated tone, “would you tell my sister she needs to use her common sense?”

Lissa laughed, coming up to Robin, and taking his arm, “Robin, would you tell my brother he wouldn’t know common sense if it came up and stomped on his feet!”

“And you would?”

“Of course!” Lissa suddenly glanced at Robin, and smiled mischievously. “Besides, I’m not the one who used to eat oranges, peel and all.”

“That was one time!”

“Was it? Or was it the first time you were caught?”

Chrom was now on Robin’s other side, both siblings were speaking across Robin. Chrom was flushing a deep red.

“The skin is supposed to have more nutrients!” Chrom said defensively, refusing to meet Robin’s eyes when he looked at him.

The siblings suddenly stopped bickering, because Robin had burst out laughing. Robin hadn’t been a part of familial banter like this since his mother died, and he probably hadn’t laughed as hard either.

“Sorry,” Robin said, still laughing, he saw that both Chrom and Lissa were smiling at him now, like his laughter was contagious. Still chuckling, Robin said, “The skin does have more vitamins.”

He saw Chrom shoot his sister a triumphant look from the corner of his eye. She stuck her tongue out at them and let go of Robin’s arm. As she walked by Chrom, she said something too quietly for Robin to catch, but which Chrom obviously heard because he turned a furious red and muttered something about checking their supplies before he hurried off.

They had come upon him like a sudden downpour, and they left him drenched in a feeling that was suspiciously like longing, and which Robin very firmly pushed aside.

* * *

Arriving in Yilsse Chrom could feel his stomach sink further with every step. There was also a sense of relief, he had been anxious to be back since Robin had told him of the suspected plot, but he also couldn’t shake the dread he felt about having to confront his older sister about what he had done.

He knew Lissa was feeling some of this too, because she shot him a lot of worried looks that he often returned. In this the two younger siblings were always united. They both knew how deeply unpleasant it was to disappoint their older sister. In many ways, Emmeryn was not just their older sister; she was like their mother too. She was the one who had looked after them, tucked them in at night, and sat by their beds when they had been sick as children. They had lost their mother very young, Lissa couldn’t even remember her, and when Chrom tried, he could only picture Emmeryn’s face.

When they were in the palace courtyard Chrom saw right away that his sister was already waiting for them. She had come out in full state, the council, and most of the court out awaiting their arrival.

But, no, it wasn’t them they had gathered to greet; it was Robin. Of course, this was precisely how they would welcome not only a foreign prince, but also the betrothed of the Prince of Yilsse.

Emmeryn was easy to spot; she stood a few steps in front of her court, her robes flowing out around her, her long blonde hair catching the noonday sun. She wore no adornment or signifier of her rank; she didn’t need to. The mark of Naga on her forehead was in many ways better than any crown that could be fashioned.

Attendants came up right away to help them all with their horses and their things, and Chrom thanked them distractedly. He was trying to gauge his sister’s mood. It was hard to say though; she looked as calm and serene as ever.

Chrom took a breath and turned to look out over his party, he spotted Robin right away, his pale hair very handy in that regard. At first Chrom had tried not to be around him too much, tried to avoid looking at him, but that had probably been a bad idea, because maybe if he had been near him more often he would have gotten used to him. Sometimes it was still like seeing him for the first time, the sharp contrast between fair hair and dark skin as lovely as it had been at their first meeting.

He walked over to his betrothed and offered him his arm. Robin took it without hesitating, and they walked together to greet the Exalt of Yilsse.

Stopping a respectful distance in front of Emmeryn, Robin let go of his arm, and they both swept into deep bows. When they straightened, Emmeryn inclined her head gracefully. Everyone seemed to have stopped what they were doing to watch this interaction. Chrom felt stillness at his back, and he knew they were all waiting for Emmeryn’s reaction.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you, Prince Robin,” Emmeryn said, warmly, surprising no one with her ease, and yet Chrom could feel himself, and those around him relax. It was like they had all been on edge, collectively holding their breaths, hoping this didn’t break the peace that had been so hard won. Guilt pricked in Chrom’s stomach, it was unfair that he had made everyone so uneasy. He looked at his sister, and felt some of that dissipate; she was smiling so kindly at Robin. “We welcome you to Yilsse, and hope you will enjoy your stay with us. Please do not hesitate to ask us for anything you may need. And,” Emmeryn stepped forward holding out her hand, which Robin took after only a second of hesitation, Emmeryn held Robin’s hand between both of her own, and her smile was radiant. “Our warmest and heartfelt congratulations on your betrothal, we wish you all the happiness in the world.” She shot Chrom a look, still smiling, “We do ask that you take care of our brother, he can be very headstrong.”

“Thank you very much, Your Majesty.” Robin said, and he was smiling too. “I can’t express enough how grateful I am for your gracious welcome.” He turned to look at Chrom too, and Chrom caught that look with a little skip of his heart, there was a teasing light in Robin’s eyes. “As for Your Grace’s brother, yes, I am learning for myself just how stubborn he can be.”

Emmeryn laughed, and Chrom saw that laugh work like magic across her people. Everyone was smiling and perfectly at their ease now. Chrom didn’t even bristle at their soft jabs at him.

“Come,” Emmeryn let go of Robin’s hand and took his arm when he offered it. She gestured forward, toward the palace, and the crowd behind her parted as one, “Let’s continue this inside, shall we? Robin, we look forward to speaking with you, Chrom wrote most highly of you. I can see he did not exaggerate your good looks.”

Chrom felt his face heat all at once. He could see Robin shoot him a look in his periphery, but Chrom refused to meet his gaze. Instead he studied the pattern in the marble as they walked at a leisurely pace up the steps into the palace.

Lissa was suddenly beside him, she nudged him in the side with her elbow. “Do you think Em will send you to your room without dinner?”

Chrom scowled, “Shut up.”

His younger sister laughed and then ran lightly over to Emmeryn, making everyone pause their progress so the sisters could embrace. Chrom trailed behind them when they started walking again. From the direction Emmeryn was heading, they were making their way to her private solar. The court had dispersed or otherwise stayed behind, it was just her personal guard still with them.

Chrom half listened to Robin and Emmeryn talk, they had fallen into an easy rapport when they realized they had both read quite a lot of history about both their countries.

“I don’t have much time for leisurely reading anymore, I’m afraid,” Emmeryn was saying, “but when I was younger, I read those books like they might be taken from me!”

Robin said something in reply Chrom didn’t quite catch, and Emmeryn laughed. Chrom was a surprised by how pleasant this was, it was nice to see them get along. It wasn’t that his older sister had trouble getting along with others or that she didn’t laugh often, but she seemed genuinely happy to be talking with Robin. Chrom had to remind himself that this was part of a larger plan, and not really something he should get starry-eyed about.

Still, when they entered the solar, and he and Robin sat beside each other, the other young man smiled at him, and Chrom found he was smiling too. It was easy, like the atmosphere around them, like the way he took Robin’s hand, and the slide of Robin’s fingers in his. It was easy, dangerously so.

_It’s just an act_, Chrom told himself firmly, _you’re acting too. _Robin’s skin was warm; Chrom could feel sword callouses on his fingers. _This is for Emmeryn; this is just to save Emmeryn. _

“Chrom?”

Chrom’s head snapped to the side, so quickly he startled everyone around him. He realized he must have missed them calling his name at least once already.

“Sorry?” He said.

Emmeryn gave him a slightly bemused look, but it was gone in the next moment. She was smiling again, “We were discussing the date for the Betrothal Declaration.”

“Oh,” said Chrom, eloquently, “right.”

The declaration was an Ylissean custom. It was, in essence, what it sounded like. Yilsse hosted a formal event where their neighbouring countries and allies were invited to witness the declaration, the announcement of the intent of a royal family member to marry their betrothed.

When royalty was engaged to be married, they brought their betrothed to Yilsse, to introduce them to family, and to have time to know them. It was thought to be a romantic custom; it seemed to encourage marrying for love, but in truth it was originally very political. It gave the household and royal family time to adjust to the betrothed, and more importantly, it meant that if the marriage was being organized to ease tensions between countries, Yilsse essentially had a political hostage. Chrom’s great – great grandfather had created the custom for exactly that reason, but it had had the sharp edges of it smoothed down over the years. The important part, for Chrom and Robin, was the fact that if the declaration was formally made, it was as good as an actual marriage in Ylisse, a contract, and bond in its own right. But, it was also an important aspect of Robin’s plan.

“We will, of course, need some time to plan.” Emmeryn touched her index finger to her bottom lip in thought, a gesture Chrom had seen a thousand times. She hummed in consideration for a second, and then said, “Six months, I think.”

“What!” Lissa and Chrom exclaimed in unison. There was technically no time frame for the declaration, but the longest Chrom had heard of anyone waiting to do it was three months.

“Yes,” Emmeryn said, lightly but seriously. “We will need time to prepare everything. A marriage between our countries must be planned for extensively. We must ensure everything is as near perfect as we can have it, and that will take time. We also want our guests to have ample time to make arrangements to attend. And, we will oversee all the arrangements personally.”

Chrom and Lissa exchanged a look. There was no doubting the seriousness of the event; maybe he hadn’t really appreciated just how important it was. Chrom nodded, feeling a little ashamed he hadn’t grasped the gravity of the situation right away.

“We’ll do anything we can to help, Your Grace,” Robin said, reminding Chrom that he should have offered first, and right away.

“Thank you,” Emmeryn said, and she did seem grateful. “We will be sure to make use of your assistance.” Emmeryn leaned back in the plush armchair she sat in, “Now, Chrom tells us you are an excellent tactician, would you tell us what that entails? We know so little of what kinds of skills are needed for such a role.”

And so they talked. Emmeryn asked Robin insightful and genuinely interested questions about his abilities, his thoughts on Plegian – Yilssean relations, and his family. Here Robin answered a little hesitantly.

“My mother passed away a few years ago, Your Majesty.”

Emmeryn looked sincerely sad to hear that. “We know what it is to lose a mother, we are truly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

All that time Robin’s hand was in his. Chrom had taken it because he thought he should, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now he realized he had probably set his own self a rather dangerous precedent. If he was already willing and comfortable to hold Robin’s hand now, then he would probably be expected to do it often in the six months to come.

_Well_, Chrom thought, _there are worse things to endure. _

After some time Emmeryn excused them, but not before Chrom had to suffer hearing Lissa’s exaggerated version of how Robin and Chrom had met. His whole face burning he had listened to Lissa croon, “Oh, Chrom had stars in his eyes!” He had wanted to kick her. He had dared a glance at Robin, wanting to apologize for his annoying little sister, but Robin looked away, his face flushed. Chrom felt more keenly the heat from Robin’s hand.

“We have kept you long enough, you must all be very tired.” Emmeryn gestured to Lissa, “Would you please show Prince Robin to his chambers?”

“Of course!”

“Thank you, Lissa,” Emmeryn said standing, and they all stood too. As they were making their way out, Emmeryn called suddenly, like she had just remembered something, “Oh, Chrom, we would like to hear about the state of villages on the border, would you stay a moment and speak to us?”

“Of course,” Chrom echoed. He had forgotten to give his sister his report. He had been so worried about Robin he hadn’t even written anything down, the only thing he had done was write to his sister. He remembered agonizing over every word of his letter, trying to find a good way to say, ‘I did something impulsive and, frankly, inadvisable. Sorry, but you know me.’

“We’ll go on ahead,” Lissa said, giving Chrom a look, and then leaving with Robin in tow. Chrom was too distracted by the smile Robin gave him to recognize the signs of danger.

It was just the two older siblings in the room now. Once the door closed, Chrom turned back to Emmeryn who sighed, she gave Chrom a look of weary amusement, the kind of expression one might give a child who has painted a picture for you on the wall, ruining your fine wallpaper. Belatedly, Chrom realized this was not about the report at all.

He watched as Emmeryn extracted from the folds of her robe a letter, she shook it out with a deft movement of her hand, and without preamble began to read it aloud. Chrom felt heat prick the back of his neck as his own words were read out to him.

“’Dearest sister,’” she began, and Chrom tried to brace himself, but it was worse, much worse to hear everything in her voice. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to think about that letter again.

_<strike>Kindest</strike> <strike>Best</strike> <strike>Most Esteemed</strike>_

_Dearest Sister,_

_Things have gone well in Plegia, without much incident. Lissa spilled orange juice on her favourite dress, but you know how clumsy she can be. Plegia is rather nice this time of year. Lots of clouds though, but they are fluffy. <strike>I saw one that looked like a dragon!</strike>_

_ <strike>There’s something</strike> _

_ <strike>I wanted to tell you</strike> _

_ <strike>You should know</strike> _

_Em, I’m writing because I want to be the first to tell you. Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad, don’t be worried, okay? I met someone. I’ve asked for his hand. In marriage, I mean. It’s the Prince of Plegia, Prince Robin. He has accepted. King Gangrel has given his approval. You’ll like him, Em, he’s smart, <strike>and beautiful</strike> and kind. I’m bringing him with us, as per our customs._

_ <strike>I apologize</strike> _

_ <strike>I’m really sorry</strike> _

_I know it’s very sudden, and I’m sorry about that. I know you’ll understand. We’ll see you soon._

_Thank you._

_Love,_

_Chrom_

_P.S. I bought your favourite candied figs!_

Emmeryn looked up from the letter and raised one pale eyebrow eloquently. The silence hung heavily between them. This was, in fact, much worse than the time she had found all those kittens in his room. But, Chrom did feel about ten years old again.

She sighed once more and shook her head. “Oh, Chrom.” Emmeryn folded the letter and put it back in her robes, Chrom had half a mind to ask for it back, just so he could have the joy of throwing it into the nearest fire. “So, I shouldn’t worry?”

Emmeryn had gone to stand by the window, she half sat on the ledge now, and Chrom walked over to her.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Chrom said earnestly, urgently. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I know what I’m doing. I know – I know this is the right thing to do, and – really, it’ll be okay. I promise.”

She looked at him for a moment, a little startled by his intensity, but then her expression softened. “You like him.” She said it simply.

Chrom wasn’t expecting the conversation to go this way. He felt warm again, for an entirely different reason now, but this wasn’t any more pleasant. “Yes.”

“I’m glad.” And Chrom knew she meant it. “I confess this wasn’t the type of thing I had in mind when I said I hoped you would help strengthen our relationship with Plegia, but I suppose you can’t govern the whims of the heart.” She was smiling now, a little teasing, “He is all the things you said, I can see why you looked at him – how did Lissa put it? – with stars in your eyes.”

“_Em_,” Chrom complained.

She laughed. “I trust your judgement, Chrom.” She said, and Chrom felt, embarrassingly, emotion well in his chest. “I know you always have good intentions, and you would never knowingly cause harm. You know I would never reprimand you for following your heart. Now,” she got up and went to sit at the desk she had set up on the other side of the room. At this time of day it was in partial shade, perfect light to read by but with the benefit of not baking in the sun. “I have a lot of arrangements to make.” Chrom nodded, about to speak when Emmeryn continued, “And, I’ve given you quite a lot of time to make sure you know your future partner, do put it to good use, Chrom.”

He blinked. Six months was a more than generous amount of time before a declaration, more than he had heard anyone having. Emmeryn was smiling at him like she could hear his thoughts.

“And, don’t forget to send me the figs when you’ve unpacked, I’ve been looking forward to them.”

Chrom almost laughed, he and his sister exchanged a smile.

This. This was precisely why everything he had done and would do would be worth it. Emmeryn was the best sister anyone could ask for, and their country needed her.

“I will,” he said. Emmeryn nodded her head to the door and Chrom went to take his leave. At the door he hesitated. “I really am sorry about,” he gestured vaguely, “everything. I know it must be difficult.”

She waved this off. “Difficult? Hardly. I have pulled a country back from war, dear brother, I can make a few wedding arrangements. Now, go on, I’m sure Lissa is dying to know what we spoke of.”

Now Chrom did laugh. He left and made his way, not to Lissa’s room, but to Robin’s.

He knocked and when he was given permission to enter, went in shutting the door behind him.

Robin was not in the sitting room, so Chrom had to cross it to find him. He was in his bedroom standing by a bookshelf. He turned his head to look at Chrom when he came in, knocking softly on the open door of the bedroom. He saw Robin standing there, his fingers tracing lightly over the spine of the books on the shelf.

“These are books on battle strategy,” Robin said, there was something like wonder – awe – in his voice. “There are some I’ve never seen before.” He looked at Chrom again, in his eyes was that same wonder, “Did your sister do this?”

“Um, actually,” Chrom began, “I did. I thought you might like them.”

Robin gave him a look that made Chrom want to look away, but he didn’t. He tried not to fidget.

“Thank you.”

Now he did look away, he ran a hand through his hair, not realizing he was doing it, and replied, “It’s not – You don’t – “ He bit the inside of his cheek. “You’re welcome.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Your sister is exactly the way people say.” Robin broke the quiet, and thankfully changed the subject. “I can see why your people love her.”

“Yes,” Chrom said simply, this was just a fact.

“We have more time than I initially planned for,” Robin continued. He leaned against the shelf, crossed one arm over his middle, and rested the elbow of the other on that arm, his chin in his hand. A characteristic pose that Chrom would soon become very familiar with. “That’s good,” Robin declared. “We can investigate thoroughly, I have time to organize my notes, and you can help me compile some too. There’s also time to get to know everyone, which is important, and there may even be time for – well, I’ll explain that when we start making plans. And – what?”

“Nothing.”

“Did I say something funny?”

“No,” Chrom tried not to smile. This wasn’t the right time to find the workings of Robin’s analytical mind amusing. But, Chrom couldn’t shake the feeling that everything would work out well. He wasn’t even that upset by the idea that someone had betrayed them, the more he thought about it, the more sure he was that there must be some kind of explanation for that as well. He was probably inadvisably optimistic, but he couldn’t seem to help it at the moment.

Robin gave him a look that said he didn’t quite believe him, but shrugged it off. “Alright then, tomorrow we can begin our planning.”

Chrom nodded, but of course, that would prove to be easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned yet that sibling dynamics are my jam?? They're so so important to me. Also, thinking about the royal Yilssean siblings' childhood is really sad. Presumably dead mother, neglectful war-hungry father, it really would have been Emmeryn from a crazy young age looking out for all of them. I think about that a lot. 
> 
> Also, I think that version of Chrom's letter is the best he could do before he had to send the messenger. There were definitely other drafts, but they had, like, whole paragraphs crossed out, so this was actually great in comparison. 
> 
> Anyway, antics ahead! I'm excited for these dorks to show their true dorkiness. I headcanon both Robin and Chrom as bisexual disasters, which I can't wait to write. 
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/snow_falls4) and [Tumblr](https://nightofviolet.tumblr.com/) for more of my nonsense!


	4. A Prince's Chivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! At first I took some time to make sure I knew where tf this was going, and then I got sick ^^;; 'Tis the season to catch all kinds of germs here in Canada, and it sucks a lot. 
> 
> But, anyway, thanks so much to everyone who left comments and kudos! It's so wild that people are enjoying this, especially when I've been misspelling the name of a very important haildom this whole damn time. orz 
> 
> Please enjoy chapter 4!

Chrom had never been engaged to a foreign prince before; he didn’t realize it entailed taking so many lessons.

The next day Chrom was ushered into long boring lessons on etiquette, specifically written up for courting a prince of Plegia after a war. It was so specific Chrom had to assume it had been drafted just for him. There were a myriad of little customs and etiquette he was expected to follow, and Chrom did his best to feign enough interest to get by, but even still he didn’t escape very pointed comments from his instructor.

“Of course,” he said, “customarily the Exalt gives their blessing before any kind of offer is made, and the court has much more time to prepare, but evidentially that’s not always the case.”

That was his whole day; his meals were brought into the classroom, and two different instructors, who took turns droning on and on, lectured him. By the end of the day Chrom was so starved for some kind of physical activity he practically ran through the halls back to his room.

Sitting in a classroom had never been Chrom’s strong suit. When he had been younger Emmeryn had been careful to make sure his lessons were broken up with sword training, horseback riding, archery, and all other manner of physical lessons so he didn’t drive himself and his teachers crazy with his inability to sit still for longer than half an hour at a time. Of course, he wasn’t a child anymore, and he _could _sit through the lessons, but it was downright torturous.

His next day was much the same, and the day after that, and the day after that. Not only did Chrom have to learn this new etiquette, but he also had to brush up on things he already knew. He was given a revision course on Plegian-Ylissean history, politics, and differing customs.

During this time he hardly saw anyone, he saw Emmeryn in the hall the second day and had just enough time to complain about this cruel and unusual punishment before he was mercilessly bullied into his next lesson.

After almost two weeks of this Chrom finally had a reprieve.

Emmeryn had organized a dinner to welcome Robin to Ylisse, at which point she apologized eloquently and sincerely for the delay. She had heard that Robin’s favourite dessert was the Plegian pear tart, and it had taken that long to have some shipped over from Plegia. Chrom, who was sitting next to Robin when Emmeryn explained the delay, caught the look of genuine surprise on Robin’s face when he was told this.

“We also wanted to give you some time to settle in,” Emmeryn explained, “We hope you have found Ylisse to your liking.”

“I have,” Robin replied. “And, I can’t thank you enough for all the trouble you’ve gone to for me.”

Emmeryn smile, “It’s no trouble.” She shot a look at Chrom, “We would do much more for the sake of Our younger siblings.”

The dinner was extravagant. It was comparable to Emmeryn’s birthday celebrations, and those were organized by Lissa, who didn’t have nearly as many qualms about subtlety as her sister did. The food was rich and flavourful, and there were just as many Plegian dishes as there were Ylissean. The wine was Plegian, a sweet berry wine that wasn’t quite as dry as Ylissean wine often was.

“Did you know,” Chrom said, leaning in toward Robin to be heard over the noise of other voices raised in good spirits, and the music softly playing. “That it was once tradition for a suitor to weed the garden of their betrothed?”

Robin turned his head slightly, and Chrom admired the curve of his long pale lashes. His eyes were sparkling, and his mouth was stained from the berry wine, “Is that a euphemism?”

There was a beat of silence. And then another. Then, Robin leaned back and burst out laughing. Chrom ignored the feeling of warmth that had crept up his neck and into his cheeks, and laughed too. It was the wine, it had to be. It made Robin light up, it relaxed his posture, and it had to be the explanation for the look in his eyes. It made Chrom’s head light, and it swept away his anxiety, his worries. It was obviously the reason for Chrom’s reaction to Robin.

Still laughing, Robin said, “I did know, actually. Will you also climb up Mount Coelum and bring me a star flower?”

“That depends,” Chrom replied, feeling his fingers brush Robin’s on the table as they leaned back in to each other, “Will you perform the customary Plegian betrothal dance for me?”

Robin had been getting similar lessons to Chrom’s, and it was true that misery loved company, because Chrom didn’t feel as bad about the lessons now that he knew he wasn’t the only one suffering them. They also didn’t seem quite so bad now that he was swapping stories about out-dated and hilarious betrothal customs with Robin.

While they talked and laughed Chrom had the feeling he was forgetting something important, ignoring something he should be thinking about instead, but every time that uneasy feeling came up, Chrom firmly pushed it down. It wasn’t hard, Robin’s smile made it very easy in fact.

They had been laughing about the customary synchronized horseback riding couples did generations ago, when suddenly Robin turned to his other side. As the guest of honour, Robin was seated on Emmeryn’s immediate right, so he needed only to turn his head to speak to her. Chrom watched him as he did that now.

“Your Majesty,” Robin said, “I have heard you keep some of the best horses in all of Ylisse, might I ask permission to ride them? With my betrothed, of course.”

“You needn’t ask so formally, Robin. We are certain Chrom would be delighted to show you Our stables, and ride out with you. You didn’t need to seek Our permission for this, but thank you for asking.”

“I didn’t wish to presume,” Robin said, “Thank you, Majesty.”

“We think you will find the grounds very lovely this time of year,” Emmeryn leaned forward slightly to address Chrom who was now realizing he had just been committed to something other than lessons for the first time in almost two weeks. “Be sure to show Robin the orchard, Chrom.”

“Yes,” said Chrom, feeling a little like he was missing something even though he had watched the entire exchange. “I will.”

Chrom wasn’t used to drinking, but the wine had almost no alcoholic taste, and he had been drinking it like juice. By the end of the night the servers had stopped giving him any, and replaced all his drinks with water. Still, his head felt very light, and his balance wasn’t quite what it normally was, but he hardly noticed when he and Robin walked back to their rooms. Lissa had gone to bed much earlier, and Emmeryn would stay until the very end, Chrom had caught one or two looks from her that were a kind of indulgent amusement he hadn’t seen since he was very young, but he couldn’t really think about that now. Chrom had taken Robin’s hand to help him up, and didn’t let go of it as they began to walk.

As they made their way out, a little unsteadily, their shoulders bumping, Chrom told Robin about learning to ride as a child.

“It was more difficult than I expected,” Chrom said, feeling Robin’s shoulder press against his for a moment before he moved away. “Emmeryn made it look effortless, but I didn’t mind practicing.”

Robin bumped him again, his hand in Chrom’s was cool, and Chrom had the mad urge to bring it to his mouth and blow warm air over it, like he did to his own hands during winter.

“My mother taught me,” Robin said, his voice was as unsteady as his walk, and this time when his shoulder bumped Chrom’s, he didn’t move away. “She used to take me riding all the time. She smelled like sweet grass.”

“I don’t remember my mother much,” Chrom admitted.

They were still walking, a little more slowly now. The noise from the hall had long been muffled, they were close to their rooms, Robin’s was down the corridor from Chrom’s. They passed one or two guards, but mostly they were met by quiet, the palace already asleep, as they should be.

Robin turned his head to look at Chrom, they passed by a window in that moment, moonlight poured in and seemed to make Robin glow. Robin could wield magic, Chrom knew that, but he hadn’t known that Robin himself _was _magic. He had to be.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said, softly, “I can’t imagine what it would be like to forget my own mother, or not know her at all.”

Their slow steps echoed through the deserted hall. Chrom’s head was light, and so was his heart, it felt like the only thing keeping him from floating out into the night was the cool hand in his.

“It’s all right,” Chrom said. Robin gave him a look and Chrom amended, “It’s not all right, but, it’s not as if I didn’t have family that loved me. I had my sisters, and I’m grateful for that.”

Robin smiled, just a little, as soft as his voice had been. It was hard to look away from him.

They arrived at Robin’s rooms first. Chrom felt as if he should do something, say something, but he had no idea what. Something very close to nerves was sitting low in his stomach, but his fuzzy mind couldn’t account for why that was. Chrom stood there, almost as if he was waiting for something.

Robin was leaning against his own door; he was looking at Chrom with an expression Chrom didn’t know how to read. He thought maybe Robin was waiting for something too.

Maybe it was all the lessons he had had recently, or their conversations about them, or maybe it was entirely the wine’s fault, but Chrom lifted Robin’s hand, which he was still holding, and he brought it to his mouth.

It was muscle memory from there. He slid his hand down so he held only the tips of Robin’s fingers; Chrom’s thumb resting between Robin’s index and middle fingers. He kept the touch light, delicate, almost expecting Robin to pull away. When he didn’t, Chrom bent his head, he remembered thinking about warming Robin’s hands and almost smiled. He pressed his lips to the back of Robin’s hand. Proper etiquette dictated it not last longer than the count of three, so that was when Chrom withdrew, gently letting go.

He couldn’t seem to remember if the alcohol had flushed Robin’s cheeks earlier, or if the colour in his face he noticed now was new.

“Good night, Robin.”

Robin pressed the handle of his door down, “Good night, Chrom.”

*

Robin had never had a hangover before, and he did not care to ever have one again. Gods, he was never drinking again.

He stumbled out of bed feeling his head throb, and went directly to the bathroom. Thankfully he didn’t feel sick, but he most definitely needed water, and to rinse his mouth out a few times.

Washing up, Robin remembered everything that had happened the night before. The perils of alcohol weren’t something he had ever had to deal with before, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to face Chrom after everything that had happened. He hadn’t done anything particularly embarrassing, but he distinctly remembered the thoughts going through his head the night before, and Robin was certain they must have shown on his face. Stupid, absurdly attractive Ylissean Prince, this wasn’t why Robin was here.

Scolding himself as he got changed for the day Robin picked their interactions apart in his head and tried to remember if he had done or said anything especially damning. He thought he was probably safe. Then he recalled the ride he had asked for, and he felt much better. Finally, things were going to get back on track.

Pulling his shoes on Robin heard a knock on the door. He didn’t even look up as he called, “Come in.” If his head hadn’t been bothering him he would have noticed the knock sounded different from the usual smart raps at his door from his attendants.

“Robin?” Came a voice he hadn’t expected to hear so early in the morning.

“In – “ He started; he had to clear his throat, “In here.”

Chrom appeared at his door. He was carrying a small tray; set on it was a teapot and cup. Chrom smiled a little uncertainly, and Robin wondered if he remembered last night too.

So in the end facing Chrom wasn’t nearly as bad as he had thought, but Robin still wished he had had more time to gather himself.

“I thought you might like some tea,” Chrom said, walking over to the dresser and setting the tray down atop it. “I don’t know about you,” Chrom began, still looking a little unsure, “but I woke up this morning feeling like my head had been trod on by a Pegasus.” He gestured to the tea, “This helped.” He smiled a little, “Still not back to normal, but Emmeryn assures me we’ll be fine tomorrow. The cooks are mindful of our, ah, state, and have prepared breakfast accordingly.” There was a slight, somewhat awkward pause, then Chrom asked, “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’ve felt better,” Robin replied, a little dryly. “But, I think I’ll feel better when I’ve eaten.” Robin was famished. He wouldn’t be surprised if his stomach growled right then and tipped the scales on this already precarious exchange firmly onto the embarrassing side. He gestured to the tray, “Thank you for the tea, that was very thoughtful of you.” Especially because Chrom himself had come to deliver it, something he could have very easily had someone else do, but Robin didn’t say that. “Would you still like to go riding today?”

“Yes,” said Chrom without hesitation, “I would, if you want to.”

“I do.”

“Good.”

“Yes.”

Another slightly awkward pause, and then Chrom laughed a little. He scrubbed his hand through his hair, and took a step back.

“I’ll, um, I’ll let you get ready in peace.” He said, “I’ll see you in the dinning room?”

“Yes,” Robin said again, “I’ll be there soon.”

Chrom nodded, and then left.

Robin sat for a moment looking at the door, and then got up and poured himself some of the tea. He thought of Chrom thinking about him and coming to his room with this tray. Had he gone down to the kitchens for it? Or had it been brought up for him? Robin had no trouble imagining the former; Chrom was nothing if not genuine and earnest, that much was obvious about him right from the beginning.

Robin drank the tea, it was a little bitter, but after he finished the first cup the taste wasn’t so bad. By the second his head felt better, and after the third he made his way down to finally join everyone for breakfast. 

No one had forgotten Robin’s request to go out riding. After breakfast one of the stable hands found him and asked him when he and Chrom would like to go. Lunchtime, Robin decided, would be best.

Emmeryn, in her infinite kindness, had given them the day free. There were no lessons or meetings they needed to attend. Yesterday Robin had been in a meeting with the Plegian ambassador and the Exalt’s favourite cloth merchant picking out curtains for his suite. It had taken at least three hours before they settled on a deep purple.

Now he had time to finally get his own things done. Asking around he managed to get his hands on a picnic basket, and a saddlebag. Robin spent the morning arranging his things and then getting changed before going out to the stables.

He wasn’t confident enough in his knowledge of the palace to wander around on his own, but Robin seldom forgot a route he had already been shown once before. He walked down thinking that it felt both like only a day or two and much more than two weeks had passed since he had arrived at the palace. It was strange to think he was swapping one palace life for another, no matter how temporary. And, despite the fact that he was not in his native country, and there were only a handful of people here who looked like him, or spoke with his accent, he still felt more at ease here. Robin let himself admit it because it was simply the truth. Acknowledging the fact that it felt better to be out from under Gangrel’s and his father’s thumb didn’t mean he was embracing life as a prince, in any country.

When he got to the stables, Chrom was already there. He saw him right away, realizing that he was surprised to see Chrom wear something different. That was silly, Robin himself had dressed in riding leathers, and so it only made sense that Chrom was similarly dressed. It was just that, like this, Chrom almost didn’t even look like a prince. His clothing was cut plainly, simply, it was only as he got closer that Robin could see the quality of the material, and noticed that the other reason this outfit was striking was that it fit more snuggly to Chrom’s figure.

True to Chrom’s nature, the arm that bore the symbol of Naga was bare. Robin tried not to smile when he saw that.

“Robin,” Chrom greeted, turning at the sound of his footsteps. He was standing in front of one of the horses. A large grey horse, a gelding, probably. “Come meet Pepper.”

Robin did smile now. “Pepper?”

“Don’t make fun,” Chrom said as he encouraged Robin to pet the horse’s long nose. “Lissa named him when he was born, Pepper is part of the family.”

Robin put his things down and stroked Pepper’s nose, letting the horse sniff at his hand and then exhale hot air over it in greeting. Pepper’s coat shone even in the muted light of the stables, Robin didn’t doubt that he would be cared for extensively since horses were uncommon in Ylisse. They had been hunted almost to extinction hundreds of years ago, and most that survived had been driven into neighbouring countries. They were found more commonly in the wild in Plegia and Ferox. Pepper was either of rare Ylissean stock, or he was an import, Robin would bet all his books it was the former.

“And who else will be joining us?” Robin asked after another moment in which they both stroked Pepper’s agreeable head.

Chrom blinked at him. “Pardon? Who else?”

“My horse.”

“Oh. Oh! Of course.” Chrom turned away, but Robin still caught the light colour on the tips of his ears.

Chrom took a few steps and then gestured into the stall next to Pepper’s. “This is Cinnamon. I named her.”

Robin laughed. “Do you two just like spices or were you hungry when you named the horses?”

“Don’t, you’ll hurt Cinnamon’s feelings.”

“I would never. Apologies, Lady.” Robin mock bowed.

He straightened and caught Chrom’s gaze, his eyes were alight; they were smiling at each other. Robin looked away first, reaching out to let Cinnamon smell him.

“Well,” Chrom said, “let’s get going, shall we?”

They waved away offers from the stable hands for their assistance, and instead readied their own horses. Cinnamon was sweet tempered and took to Robin right away. He attached his things to her saddle and allowed Chrom to give him a hand up when he was ready to ride.

They set off at a light trot, Chrom leading the way. Robin rode often back at the Plegian castle, but it hadn’t been something he usually did before he had been named heir. It was almost a full year since he had unexpectedly been summoned to the castle, five months since he had learned his father had been scheming with the King and that making Robin heir was part of their foul plans.

It was almost ten years since his mother had been killed.

“That’s the orchard!”

Chrom’s voice snapped Robin out of his reverie. He looked over to where Chrom was pointing. They were riding more quickly now, Chrom seemed to have set a slower pace to start to give Robin time to adjust, but he had had a lot of practice recently. They were riding almost at a gallop, so that the wind blew their hair firmly back, and Chrom had to shout to be heard.

It was an apple orchard Robin realized as they neared. It wasn’t quite yet time for apples, they were more plentiful in late summer–early autumn, and it was only just midsummer now. They had apples in Plegia too, but they weren’t the same kind. Theirs were green, tart, and sour, the ones here were red, and Robin knew, they were sweet.

They began to slow, and Chrom gestured for them to dismount at a spot not far ahead. There, just inside the first line of the trees, they tied the horses, letting them nose at the ground and eat some early fallen apples. They poured water into dishes Robin had brought for the horses, and then Chrom came over and took the basket without prompting, showing again his tendency toward unconsciously chivalrous. Just like the night before when Chrom had–

Robin didn't let himself follow that line of thinking, instead he took up his bag and walked with Chrom into the orchard. The summers in Ylisse weren’t as hot as they were in Plegia, but it was still summer and very warm. Robin was used to warm weather, but he could see Chrom was already flushed from the heat, and he saw his relief when they stepped into the dappled shade of the trees.

“I used to come here often as a child,” Chrom said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. “Sometimes Emmeryn would come and play here with Lissa and I,” Robin was looking at Chrom as he spoke; he had come to recognize the soft fond expression on Chrom’s face whenever he spoke about his sisters. “I don’t even remember how many times in the course of our games I ran straight into one of these trees.”

That surprised a laugh out of Robin. He could almost picture it, young Chrom breathless with laughter, running with ill-advised speed, with abandon, and barrelling straight into one of the apple trees. It was stupidly endearing.

Chrom was smiling at him; he reached up to pick an apple off a low hanging branch and offered it to Robin. Robin took it, feeling unaccountably shy suddenly, and toyed with the stem as they continued to walk.

One of the nicer things about Chrom was how open he was. It always caught Robin by surprise; he was utterly without artifice, and one of the most straightforward people Robin had ever met. So willing to share himself with others, it was as disarming as it was charming.

_He’s a very kind person_, Robin thought, _that’s just a fact. There’s nothing wrong with making obvious observations. _

“Is here all right?” Chrom asked.

Robin looked around. They had walked a fair distance into the trees. It looked much the same as any other part of the orchard they had passed except the tree Chrom was suggesting they sit under was twice the size of the others.

Plegia had once been almost all forest, but a great deal of land had been cleared to make space for housing, villages, and farmland. As much as Robin understood the necessity of it, it still saddened him; his country was once full of great old trees like this one. He remembered reading books with his mother about the different types of trees native to Plegia, he remembered her deep reverence for nature.

_‘All living things are deserving of respect,’ she said. ‘We are in a position to be constantly taking from nature, so we must always consider, what are we giving back?’ _

“Robin?” His gaze snapped back to Chrom who was looking at him with some concern. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes. Yes, I just – Yes.” Robin shook his head, “Here is perfectly fine. There’s a blanket in the bag.”

Chrom gave him another look, but then took out the blanket and Robin helped him spread it out on the cool grass at the base of the tree. They sat, and Robin began to take cloth wrapped food from the basket he had brought with them. Fresh baked bread with rosemary and tart tomatoes, dried meat, soft cheese with honey, and Plegian pears.

Instead of taking one of the pears, which were in fact, Robin’s favourites, he picked up the apple Chrom had given him and bit into it. It was crisp, not as fully sweet as he knew it would be when completely ripe, but still pleasant.

“It’s good,” Robin said when he caught Chrom watching him.

Chrom gestured to Robin’s bag, which was leaning beside him against the tree. “You brought something else?”

“Yes.” Robin said, business-like now, finally they could get to the reason for all this. “We’ve been locked up in the palace for so long I was beginning to wonder if we would ever be free.” He heard Chrom chuckle as he helped himself to one of the pears. “I wrote out what I can remember of the letter I read in my father’s study.” Robin withdrew a sheaf of papers. “What?” Chrom was looking at him like he had just realized something very obvious.

“Nothing,” Chrom shook his head. He didn’t meet Robin’s gaze, “It’s just – nothing.”

“All right.”

Robin handed the page containing what he could remember of the letter to Chrom and while he read it over Robin took out his carefully packed quills and ink bottles.

“You’re positive the letter said ‘just before the first frost’?” Chrom said, looking up from the page, frowning slightly.

“Yes.” Robin said firmly. He had said as much to Chrom when he first told him about the plot. “I remember that very clearly, that’s why I didn’t demand we be released from those unnecessary lessons, because I knew we still had time before they moved on your sister.” He watched as Chrom scanned the letter again, his eyes moving quickly over the page, the furrow in his brow something Robin wasn’t used to seeing. Again, Robin felt almost sorry he had brought this to Chrom, even knowing he needed his help to stop it. There was no one in Plegia he could trust, ironically his country’s enemies, complete strangers, were more trustworthy to Robin than the people surrounding him in the Plegian castle.

“The first frost will most likely happen by the end of the Harvest month.” Chrom said, “That gives us about three months to plan. You said we should begin by investigating Emmeryn’s guard?”

“Yes,” Robin dipped his quill into the ink and wrote at the top of the page ‘Guard.’ “We need to know everything about her personal guard, and attendants.”

Chrom sighed, just a little, but he set his jaw determinedly. “Then let’s begin.”

It was slow work. Chrom knew a lot about Emmeryn’s guard, most of them had been in the employ of the crown since they were very young. Robin had to help him sift through the irrelevant information to things of note. They went over people’s histories, their time training, and any time they had spent abroad.

As Chrom spoke Robin took notes. At one point Chrom stood and stretched, pausing slightly before he began speaking again, this time pacing the length of the picnic blanket. Robin shifted and adjusted his position, but he was used to sitting still for long hours. He had spent so much time in his study, in the modest library in his old home pouring over his mother’s old books and maps, meticulously plotting out strategies, and going over his mother’s last battle again and again.

His hand began to cramp, and Chrom caught him shaking out his wrist. “Here,” he said, offering Robin his hand. “Take a break, stretch your legs.”

Robin hesitated for just a second, and then took his hand. He let Chrom pull him up, an easy effort of his arm and back, Robin barely had to put in any work to have Chrom haul him up like he weighed nothing at all, the force of it making Robin jump a little as he stood.

“Better?” Chrom asked, still holding his hand. His eyes were framed with dark lashes that drew attention to just how blue they were. Robin remembered the press of warm lips to the back of his hand.

He carefully withdrew and took a step back. “Yes,” he said, suddenly busy dusting off his clothes, “Thank you.”

After a moment massaging his wrist, Robin picked up his things and began writing, and he too paced, but more slowly. They ate the leftover food from lunch as they spent hours compiling notes. Chrom looked over the ones Robin had already written and sometimes wrote in the margins. Robin had expected Chrom’s writing to be big and messy, and it was, big like his presence, and always in a hurry.

Finally, Chrom’s voice rasped and clearing it didn’t help. They had run out of water too, and the sun was beginning to set.

“We should get back,” Chrom said frowning at the sound of his own voice. “We’re lucky they haven’t sent anyone looking for us.”

Robin nodded. “All right.” He looked over his notes before carefully putting his things away. “There are still some people here we need to know training history for. We’re going to have to get that before we can rule them out as suspects.”

They gathered their things and set out to the horses that were probably missing them by now.

There was a different kind of silence between them, more companionable, more natural. It felt okay to let it breathe, to let the sounds of nature make up for the fact that they weren’t speaking, and didn’t feel pressure to do so. Robin admired the changing colours of the sky, the way it played through the trees, and the warm glow it lent Chrom’s skin.

“You said your mother taught you horseback riding,” Chrom said suddenly, as if he were picking up an old conversational thread, “did your family keep many horses?”

“We didn’t,” Robin replied. He thought about elaborating, explaining that his mother had been gifted the one horse by the King. A beautiful chestnut mare that had been given away after her death because his father couldn’t stand to have reminders of his dead wife. He thought about telling Chrom that his mother rode with him when he was too young to go alone, that she had excellent form that Robin was still trying to emulate, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out. His reply hung in the space between them, too curt and too much like a dismissal. Robin didn’t know how to share that part of himself like Chrom did. “We didn’t have a place for them,” he tried.

Chrom nodded, accepting even this meagre offering, and began chatting about last year’s apple harvest, and the festival they held every year. Robin was grateful, more so than was maybe warranted, but he appreciated very much that Chrom didn’t push him, and then filled the silence as if he knew now Robin needed him to.

The ride back to the palace was brisk. And dinner passed with a lot of knowing looks from Lissa and light inquires about Robin’s enjoyment of the orchard from Emmeryn. At the end of the night Chrom walked him back to his rooms, and even though there was no one to perform for, no one that needed convincing of their romantic relationship, and no wine to blame, Chrom still bent over the hand he held, just as he had done the night before, and gently kissed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I understand that the reason they walk everywhere is so they don't have to animate horses and stuff in the game, and then have them vanish for the fights or whatever. But, the fact that they DO walk everywhere when horses clearly exist in this world always bothered me. So, like, they're basically extinct in Ylisse and very rare, is my headcanon.
> 
> Also, Robin's mother is based off my grandma, and I will be accepting absolutely no criticism on her, just fyi. 
> 
> I swear, every time I write something with these two, I'm like, "Tone it the fuck down, is there a draught? Why are they so thirsty all the time???" But, I guess I can't help it. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Hopefully I'm back on track for next week! ^^


	5. The Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER.

The way Robin gathered information was slow by nature. His tactic was simple: talk about himself, and then ask about the guard. People were more likely to give away personal information if they were given some in return. Robin presented himself as a young uncertain betrothed, wanting to assure everyone he was a friend. And really, was he even acting? 

“I grew up in the Southern province of Plegia,” Robin explained, naming his city and the neighbouring notable towns. “Have you ever been there?”

And from there it was easy to gain information about where the guard had travelled. The thing was that it was time consuming, because not only did he ask about themselves, but he asked about the other guards, and he had to lead into it, make it seem natural to the conversation. It did help to have Chrom by his side sometimes chime in with more pointed questions, as if he had just remembered a bit of information he had heard. 

“Emmeryn said you served as border patrol as part of your training?” Chrom smiled a little ruefully, “Did you blister in the sun as I did?”

This slow way of information gathering had to be done over weeks. In the meantime Robin had Chrom borrow the records kept on the guards, and he and Robin spent their nights copying out the relevant parts. It was really a solo task, but sometimes Robin would find himself with Chrom in his sitting room copying out records with him. 

It was strange to spend so much time with one other person who was not family, Robin hadn’t really had any companions growing up. For a short while he had had the children of their cook, a boy and a girl both around his own age. But, Robin had barely had enough time to decide he did want to be their friend when, shortly after his mother passed away, suddenly all of the staff had been dismissed and never fully replaced. He remembered wandering around a suddenly empty house but for himself and his father, finding his father standing over the desk in his study, back to Robin, and without preamble saying simply, “They will not be returning.” Robin had walked slowly to the kitchen by himself, barefoot, his feet icy because there had been no one to tend the fires, and gone about boiling water. He remembered pouring water into the kettle, thankfully there was still some fresh water in the kitchen, and starting the fire. He had ruined three matches with all the tears that fell onto them. 

Chrom was his first friend, if that’s what he even was. 

There were times on those nights when Robin wanted simply to speak with him. They did talk of course, but usually it was Chrom who spoke, he told Robin about his childhood, his sisters, his friends, growing up as Prince, and Robin would offer commentary and sometimes a memory of his own, but when he thought about sharing his past with Chrom -- Robin hesitated. It felt very much like he would be giving something of himself if he did, and he wasn’t yet sure what that would mean for either of them. 

So, instead he listened, he offered what he could, and he tried to pull his gaze away from Chrom when it lingered. Sometimes Chrom’s brilliance was almost blinding. 

*

One month later found Chrom and Robin walking out of the library speaking quietly to each other. 

“I think I know -- I’ll have to look over our information but it seems like --”

“Who?” Chrom demanded, his voice rising to a normal pitch. Robin shot him a look and Chrom said again, more softly, “Who?”

But, Robin only shook his head, and then gestured ahead of them. Chrom frowned and looked in the direction Robin indicated. Coming down the hall were Chrom’s sisters. 

“Later, then.” Chrom murmured, without turning his head.

“Later,” Robin agreed.

They met at the intersection of the corridor. Emmeryn as always looked regal and polished, and Lissa, as always, did not. 

Beside him Robin inclined his head in greeting, “Your Majesty, Highness, good morning,” he said politely, but he was smiling warmly. Chrom watched as his sisters smiled back, with just as much affection, which Chrom found oddly gratifying. 

“Good morning, Robin,” Emmeryn replied. “Coming from the library? We hear you spend quite some time there together. We trust Our brother is giving you a thorough introduction to Our library?” Her expression was amused. 

Chrom didn’t know why he blushed, maybe it was the way Lissa was smirking. Chrom resisted the urge to pull on her hair like he did when they were young. 

“It’s a very beautiful library,” Robin replied, and he gave Chrom a sideways look, “Chrom, er, he does his best.” 

Chrom felt his cheeks heat further, and Lissa burst out laughing. Emmeryn hid a smile behind her trailing sleeve. “Lissa,” she chided gently, laughter in Emmeryn’s voice. Chrom shot his younger sister a look, but she just giggled again. 

Lifting her hand to her cheek and tilting her head slightly, Lissa said with mock tearfulness, “Oh Chrom, it seems like just yesterday you were playing with toy swords, and now here you are spending all your time in the library with your betrothed. My, how you’ve grown!”

“You’re  _ younger _ than me!” Chrom burst out. This time they all laughed. He felt Robin’s hand on his arm, and turned to look at him. His brown eyes were warm with mirth, and without needing him to say it, he understood Robin was telling him not to take it seriously. Chrom would still enjoy ruffling Lissa’s hair, but he knew they were just joking. 

“We were just on our way to have lunch,” Emmeryn said, changing the subject, giving Chrom a slightly apologetic smile. “If you’re able, We would love for you to join Us.”

Chrom and Robin exchanged a look. “We’d love to,” Robin said, “I just have to drop these off --” Robin held out the books he had with him.

“Here,” Chrom held out his hands for the books. “I need something from my rooms, I’ll go, if you don’t mind that is.” 

“Of course not, thank you.” Robin said, handing them over. “Just put them anywhere on the bookshelf, please.”

Chrom nodded, “I’ll join you in your parlor, Emm.” 

As he made his way back to his rooms Chrom thought about the new pair of riding gloves he had gotten for Robin. They fell safely into the realm of acceptable gifts for their courtship, as soon as he had started asking around for the gloves to be made one of Emmeryn’s advisors had cornered him and demanded to know if they were for Robin. Apparently it was a good thing they were being so cautious with their investigation, because clearly they were being watched. 

Chrom wanted to visit the stables after lunch and thought Robin would probably want to join him, he usually did. 

He was just about to enter the royal wing when he caught sight of Fredrick coming from the other direction. He stopped, waving at his friend while pressing the large heavy books Robin had entrusted to him to his chest. 

“Fredrick,” Chrom said smiling at his friend as he approached. “Coming back from training?”

Fredricked nodded his head at Chrom, a respectful gesture he couldn’t seem to shake even after years of friendship. “I was actually looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Fredrick seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second, then his expression changed to firm resolve. “May I speak with you in private for a moment?”

“Oh,” Chrom said again, this time in surprise. Fredrick was being very serious, notably serious, even for Fredrick. “Of course,” Chrom said, trying not to worry about whatever it was that had gotten Fredrick to make that face. Maybe Lissa had kicked one of the ambassadors, again. “I was just on my way to my rooms, we can speak there.”

Fredrick nodded and followed him silently to his rooms. Chrom tried for small talk, but it was all one sided, Fredrick made noncommittal noises, and gave one word answers, which was usually a signifier of agitation or worry in Fredrick. 

Once inside his quarters Chrom went to put Robin’s books in his bedroom for now, and went out to join Fredrick in his sitting room. He found him standing by the window, looking out on the grounds, he turned when he heard Chrom approach, his expression looked grim. 

“What’s wrong?”

Fredrick put his hands behind his back and stepped forward. Chrom had gone around one of the couches to lean against its back, he folded his arms and waited for Fredrick to speak. 

“I won’t mince words,” Fredrick said unnecessarily, he was not really known for his preamble. “I understand you and the Plegian Prince have been spending quite some time in the barracks.” Fredrick paused, and then said significantly, “Asking questions of the guards.”

_ Damn _ , Chrom thought,  _ the game is up. _

What he said aloud was, “Yes.” Because that was true. 

Fredrick pursed his lips, as if he didn’t like to say it, but continued, “And, it doesn’t strike you as odd that he wants so much information on the guards?” Chrom’s surprise must have shown because Fredrick made a small frustrated sound. “I know you asked that I not bring it up, but my lord, you must see how this looks.”

“No,” said Chrom slowly. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m sure he’s giving you a benign enough reason for this, but I know you’re not stupid, you must have considered this is all a scheme to gather information about our security for Plegia. Chrom the guards you have been speaking to almost all exclusively serve the Exalt. It is your sister’s safety on the line --”

Chrom didn’t notice when he had unfolded his arms, and he didn’t remember stepping forward either, but he had done both. “I know your intentions are good, Fredrick. But, I would appreciate it if you didn’t imply that I don’t always have my sisters’ safety first and foremost in my consideration.” Chrom was upset, he realized. He didn’t like Fredrick making accusations against Robin. “I know you don’t like him, but Robin is my betrothed, and if I decide he may speak with every member of the guard in the palace, then he can.” Fredrick didn’t avert his eyes meekly, he met Chrom’s gaze with all the boldness of familiarity, despite the fact that he still insisted on using Chrom’s titles. “You don’t know him.” 

“And, you do?” Fredrick demanded. “My lord, you’ve known him for hardly two months!”

That was true. Chrom thought about the way Robin avoided answering his questions, he thought about the careful wall he kept up between them. But then he thought about his small simple gestures, his warm smile, bright laughter, and the determination in his eyes when he promised Chrom they wouldn’t let anything happen to his country or his sister. 

Chrom shook his head, “He’s not an enemy.”

Fredrick sighed. He looked, not exactly defeated, but more like this was the outcome he knew was coming but still dreaded. “Very well,” Fredrick said. “But I will continue to keep an eye on him. You can be too generous with your affections for your own good.” Fredrick paused, and then added, “And, I don’t dislike him. I just don’t think he’s telling you the truth, he’s hiding something, Chrom. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

He left then, walking passed Chrom and closing the door softly behind him. Chrom stood there looking out the window without actually seeing any of what he was looking at. 

If he was being honest, it did seem as if there was something more, something else Robin wasn’t telling him. Was he crazy, reckless for trusting him? Was that any more dangerous than trusting a mad king to keep his word? Chrom sighed. He was already quite late in the game for second guessing, but if nothing else he trusted his gut, and his gut said Robin didn’t mean any of them any harm. There was probably something he wasn’t telling Chrom, but it wasn’t anything sinister, and everyone was allowed their secrets. 

Suddenly remembering that he was keeping his family waiting, Chrom turned to the door. There on the mantle was a soft paper wrapped bundle. Picking it up on his way out Chrom made his way to lunch. He made a rather distracted companion, but once they were done Robin and Chrom walked down from Emmeryn’s private solar together. Chrom had already asked Robin to join him in the stables, and their walk was quiet. When they had almost arrived Robin asked him carefully, “Is everything all right?” 

Chrom looked at him. Robin’s expression was concerned, there was every indication that his worry was genuine. He tried for a smile that mostly came out as natural, “Everything’s fine.” He took the bundle he had tucked into his belt out and handed it to Robin. He watched him take it in some surprise, and look at Chrom for permission to open it.

He watched delight slowly transform Robin’s expression. He watched as Robin traced a finger along the embroidery on the edge of one glove, silver thread, the colour of Robin’s hair. 

“This is --” Robin began, looking down at the gloves in his hands, then paused. “You didn’t have to --” He broke off again, exhaled in a way that sounded almost like a laugh. Robin finally looked up at Chrom, his gaze steady and warm, “Thank you.” 

It was Chrom who looked away first. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.”

There was a slightly awkward pause. 

“I didn’t get you anything,” said Robin. When Chrom glanced at him, he saw Robin looking at him with amusement, “But, from what Lissa tells me, you enjoy oranges. I’ll be sure to get you some next time.”

Chrom felt his face heat up. “What did she tell you? It was only once! She’s lying!” 

A beat of silence. Then, Robin tipped his head back and laughed. The sound was loud and unabashed. 

“So,” said Robin, voice still full of laughter as he wiped a tear from the corner of one eye, “she  _ was _ telling the truth.”

“She was not! Listen!”

Robin laughed again, as they continued making their way to the stables.

*

The weather had begun to change. Ylisse experienced all four seasons, where in Plegia fall and winter meant simply cooler temperatures and more rain. In Ylisse it meant the world was suddenly engulfed in a burst of warm colours. The leaves in the trees were no longer the deep green Robin was used to, but yellow and red. It was Robin’s first time seeing the vegetation change like this, and it would be more enjoyable if he could relax. Because, of course, the changing of the seasons meant they were much closer to their deadline, and so far had solved only half the puzzle. 

Robin was reasonably sure he knew who in Emmeryn’s guard would be part of the attempt on her life, but he wasn’t sure when it would happen. Without knowing when, and how, it was too easy for the attempt to succeed. 

“Couldn’t we just interrogate them?” Chrom asked, again, frustrated as he paced in a small section of the Royal Family’s private garden. The garden was built to be seen from the quarters of the Royal Family, Chrom had a view of it from his window, as did Robin. At the moment they stood by the palace wall, in a spot blocked from view by the trees.

Robin sighed, he knew he didn’t need to explain this again, that the question at this point was more rhetorical, but he did anyway. “No,” he said, “if there is even one more person in the palace with ties to my father or the Mad King, they may discover that we know about their spy, and we may never be able to catch them. If we have no evidence but the word of a tortured soldier we can’t possibly move against the King.”

“I never said anything about torture,” said Chrom, stopping in the middle of his pacing. 

“You’re right,” said Robin with a slight smile, “That was ungenerous of me.”

“Then what now?” Chrom asked, again, not for the first time.

Robin leaned back against the wall. That  _ was _ the question. There was something Robin was missing, he could see it, like a puzzle laid out before him, he couldn’t quite get the picture not because it was impossible to solve, but because there was an essential piece he could not find. There had to be something else. “We’re missing something,” Robin finally said, voicing some of his thoughts. “There’s something -- something --”

There were two points of entrance to the garden. One of them came from the side of the palace that connected to the Royal Residence, and the other that crossed into the front, close to the main corridors taken by the staff. Before the weather turned, sometimes staff would cut through the garden to reach the Residence faster, as they were doing just then. 

Both Chrom and Robin turned their heads at the sound of an opening door at the same moment. Chrom frowned, and opened his mouth as if to call out. 

“--been announced, then?”

“Yes, they’ll be arriving just before the festival.”

Without thought Robin launched himself off the wall toward Chrom, pressing his hand to Chrom’s mouth, his momentum pushing Chrom backward and into the adjacent wall. There was only the faint sound of material rustling, and a soft thump as Chrom connected with the wall, and Robin with the solid form of Chrom. The servants passing didn’t seem to notice, because they continued speaking without pause. 

“Oh, that’s exciting! I love the ambassador from Ferox, she’s lovely!”

“Isn’t she? Will you be working on the day of the festival? I’ve managed a day off! I -- “

The sound of another door opening, and then the voices abruptly cut off. There was silence in the garden once more. 

Robin waited a beat to be sure no one suddenly returned , and then relaxed. 

All at once he remembered he was pressed right against Chrom, his hand over Chrom’s mouth. A sensation he was not unfamiliar with, and that had been the problem, the very reason he had stopped it. After the second time Chrom had kissed his hand, Robin had been careful to keep his hands to himself. It wasn’t that it had been unpleasant, in fact the problem was that it was the exact opposite. 

Robin turned to look at the Heir to the Ylissean throne, and then sprang back from him, as if burned. Chrom was looking at him wide eyed, and Robin almost tripped in his haste to move back.

They spoke at the same time.

“I apologize -- “

“What happened -- “

They both broke off, and looked at each other. Chrom was starting to smile, and when he huffed a laugh, so did Robin, more an exhale of nervous tension, but still with something of a laugh to it. Robin bit the inside of his cheek to stop from grinning. He felt ridiculous. In hindsight it seemed obvious he needn’t have reacted quite like that. 

Chrom gestured that Robin should speak. 

“My apologies,” Robin started, “I didn’t mean to, ah,” he gestured toward Chrom, “accost you.” Robin explained this to a spot just left of Chrom’s head, unable to meet his eye. “But, just now, I think that was the missing piece!”

“Axis and Ami?”

Now Robin did look at Chrom, “Who?”

Chrom gestured toward the other side of the garden where the door the servants had exited from was, “I recognized their voices.”

“Oh,” said Robin. “No. No, I don’t mean them, I meant what they were talking about.” Robin crossed one arm over his middle, and on it he rested the elbow of his other arm as he held his chin in between thumb and forefinger, a gesture he never noticed he did. He felt his mind race as he saw the rest of the pieces fall neatly into place. “Once the ambassador from Ferox arrives, that will be their window. I’ll wager someone from their ranks will be working for the King.” Robin looked up from where he was staring sightlessly at the ground in thought to meet Chrom’s gaze. “They mentioned a festival, when is that?”

“The Harvest Festival,” Chrom said, “Is in two weeks.”

Robin nodded. He could see it. “They’ll come with Ferox. My guess is they will strike the day of the festival, when the Haildom is relaxed, when there are various guests, and when they can create the most confusion. If an attempt happens and fails, it will be blamed on Ferox. If it succeeds, Ferox will be on the defensive, Plegia will come in as friends, and stage a coup. I think the coup has always been the goal of this,” Robin spread his hands, as if to encompass the entirety of the Plegian plot. “Why else go to all the trouble of subtlety when they could have continued staging all out war? Their goal must be to destabilize and then conquer, swiftly and efficiently. Which means,” Robin paused, and looked at Chrom who wore a very serious expression indeed. “You and Lissa may also be in danger.”

Chrom didn’t look surprised, he simply nodded in agreement. “Yes,” he acknowledged. “But, not any more than when we thought Emm was the target because we were always going to put our lives on the line for her.”

There was a strange feeling in Robin’s chest at that. It felt as if something in him was glowing, as if warmth and light were radiating from him with every beat of his heart. That strange sensation was born in him from looking at, and listening to Chrom in that moment. 

“Yes,” said Robin, pulling his gaze away from Chrom with effort. “You’re right.” 

“So,” Chrom prompted, “What do we do?”

Robin let out a breath. “I have an idea.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like, the thing is just this. I did a lot of writing for this during NaNo, which means no editing happened. And, then when that ended, I got a new job. I come home super tired, and then I also have a ton of reading to do for a side gig, and that's a long way of saying this took forever cuz I got busy. I'm editing the next chapter, so that should be up soon. 
> 
> Also, I cut so much from this, it was like, 2k words longer, but they were all so useless. It feels way better to keep this short. The next chapter by comparison is probably too long, so I hope that balances out. 
> 
> Thanks so much for anyone still with this!! I appreciate your patience and support!!!


	6. Harvest Festival - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A timely update??? It's a holiday miracle! 
> 
> Please enjoy chapter 6!

The first thing Robin told Chrom was this; they could not do this alone. They had kept the whole thing thus far a secret between the two of them, but when it came to actually protecting themselves as well as others, they simply could not do it with any degree of success if it was just the two of them, exceptional though they may be. 

This meant, of course, that the first person it occurred to Chrom to confide in was Fredrick. 

Chrom wasn’t altogether sure how his friend and protector would react. Would he consider the possibility of truth on Robin’s part? Or would he assume this was all an elaborate plot, a clever ruse? 

He wasn’t sure how to convince his friend of the truth, or if it was even possible. Chrom wasn’t sure himself why he trusted Robin so easily. The affinity between them wasn’t something he could explain with words, and he didn’t think it was something that could be consciously gained, it had simply happened, and it was more a feeling than rational thought. Something told Chrom that it was similar, if not completely the same, for Robin. 

So, now he stood in his quarters with both his betrothed, and one of his oldest friends. All three of them were standing, both Robin and Fredrick with their arms crossed, unconsciously mirroring each other, and Chrom standing by Robin. 

There was a tense silence as they waited for Fredrick to react. He hadn’t reacted as they had explained everything they had learned, and Chrom wasn’t sure if it would have been more or less reassuring if there had been even an expression of doubt or disbelief on Fredrick’s face. 

As the seconds went by, the silence became more tense, strained, and not a little awkward. Robin and Chrom exchanged a look. 

Finally, Fredrick leveled a hard look at Robin. 

“Why should I trust you?”

There was a beat of silence. Chrom looked nervously from one to the other, but it didn’t seem as if Robin were going to back down. He returned Fredrick’s look, and said finally, “Because we want the same thing, peace between our lands, and the Mad King dethroned.” Robin paused, and then added. “I swear on my life, I mean you no harm.”

Fredrick seemed to consider him. His expression remained inscrutable. 

“So,” he began, “This is your reason for being here, Your Highness?”

“Yes.”

Fredrick nodded once. He turned to Chrom, “And, you trust the Prince? Without reservation?”

“Yes,” Chrom echoed. 

Fredrick nodded again. “I cannot ignore any threat of this nature.” He looked from Chrom to Robin, and then back again. “My Lord, I have failed you.”

“What?” Chrom hadn’t expected this in the slightest. He could feel surprise and confusion from Robin too, they exchanged another look. “Fredrick, what are you saying?”

“I have failed,” Fredrick repeated. The tension he had held in his shoulders suddenly dropped, he had the countenance of someone defeated, Chrom had rarely seen him like this, not even when they sparred and Fredrick lost, because even then he seemed to have a sense of pride, but now, even that was gone. “It is my responsibility to keep not just you safe, my Lord, but your family, and the Exalt especially. To think that there was a plot against her life, right under my very nose. And,” he turned to Robin, “if you had not chosen to lend your aid to us -- “ Fredrick broke off. 

It was wholly unexpected, but now that it was happening, it seemed, if not obvious, then natural. Fredrick  _ would _ feel as if he should have somehow foreseen something none of them could have predicted, no matter how vigilant they strove to be. It was simply their good fortune that Robin had decided to help them rather than join forces with his father. How could they possibly have accounted for something like that? There was no way, but Fredrick, noble and earnest, he would feel as if the fault was his own.

Chrom stepped over to him, and put a hand on Fredrick’s shoulder. “Don’t say that.” Fredrick’s head was bowed, and Chrom squeezed his shoulder. “You know as well as I that there was no way we could have predicted this. Emmeryn is beloved, since her reign we have known peace, but we will take up arms now. Now, Fredrick, when it matters. Later we may take all the time we like to consider how we could have done better, although I won’t allow you to shoulder the blame for this at any time, but for now we must decide how to best deal with this threat. Can I trust you to help us save the Exalt, save my sister?”

Fredrick’s head came back up slowly. He no longer looked like the stiff guard he did when they were in public, nor did he look like the downtrodden soldier he had a moment ago, he looked like Fredrick, the strong man Chrom had known since they were young. 

“Of course.”

Chrom nodded, and squeezed his shoulder once more before letting go. He turned to look at Robin who had stayed where he was, he was looking at Fredrick carefully. 

“Will you trust me now, Fredrick?” Robin asked.

Fredrick looked back at Robin, he seemed to consider the question before answering, “Help us save the Exalt, if no harm comes to her and the Royal family, then I will trust you.”

Chrom looked back at Robin, who had not taken his eyes from Fredrick. Robin smiled, just a little. 

“That’s as fair a deal as I could ask for.” Robin held out his hand, and Fredrick walked over to shake it. 

  
  


As quietly, as quickly as they could, they gathered the Shepherds. They were some of Chrom’s oldest and most trusted friends, they didn’t need to know the exact reason they were being called to the palace, all they needed to know was that Chrom was asking for them. They arrived one by one, and in small groups under the pretense of the festival. 

The first ones to arrive were Vaike, Miriel and Stahl, Chrom came out to greet them with Lissa and Robin. They all seemed to like Robin right away, and while Stahl regaled them with a story of a family so grateful for their help chasing away pig thieves that they gifted them all with the best pie he had ever had, Vaike came over to Chrom.

“I heard ya were gettin’ hitched.” Vaike said, just quietly enough that his voice didn’t carry to Robin who was on the other side of the loose circle they stood in in the courtyard. “Didn’t think it was really true. The Plegian Prince! Wonders never cease, eh?” Vaike clapped him hard on the back twice, “He’s a looker though, that’s for sure. Can’t say I blame ya.” He clapped Chrom again, “Congratulations, Chrom, you’re a worthy rival.” 

Chrom didn’t know whether to laugh or give Vaike an odd look, he compromised by smiling and shaking his head. “Vaike there’s no contest -- “

“Because I’m winning!”

“You are not!”

“Yeah? Fight me!”

Before either of them could do or say anything else Lissa stepped swiftly between the two men. 

“Are you being rude to our guests, Chrom?” She asked sternly, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Pick on my brother later,” she said turning to Vaike, “Right now you should come and have something to eat, from what Stahl says you haven’t had anything to eat since this morning!” 

Lissa dragged Vaike along with her while Miriel and Stahl followed. It left Chrom in the courtyard with Robin, they both watched as the four Shepherds disappeared into the palace. When Chrom looked over at Robin, the other young man raised a pale eyebrow. 

“Rivals, huh?” 

Chrom turned away feeling himself blush. “It’s a long story.”

He could see Robin smile from the corner of his eye. “I have time.”

The Shepherds had been asked to come as quickly as possible. And, even though Chrom knew they must have made their way to the palace in all haste, it was still a full week before they all arrived. In the meantime Robin, Chrom, and Fredrick had kept a close eye on their suspected spy. It wasn’t easy with just the three of them, but it was easier than it would have been with just himself and Robin. 

In all that time Chrom debated whether or not to say anything to Lissa. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she could keep a secret, or that she couldn’t hold her own, for the most part, but he didn’t want to worry her more than he already would. More than that, Chrom himself was worried that if she knew, she might act so differently as to tip off the spy that they were onto them. Chrom couldn’t risk that, not so close to the date. 

The last of the Shepherds arrived on the same day as their guests from Ferox. Six days before the festivities brought Sully in with Kellam, and an hour later came the Feroxi. They were brought into the throne room to greet the Exalt, Chrom, Lissa, and Robin stood on the dias next to Emmeryn, who was the only one seated. Looking down at the guests Chrom tried to guess if any of these four people was the potential assassin, or accomplice. He couldn’t guess by simply looking of course, none of them had  _ Traitor  _ written across their foreheads. 

“Welcome to Ylisse,” Emmeryn said warmly. “Isabela, it is Our pleasure to personally welcome you back.” Isabela had been to Ylisse exactly three times before. She and Chrom were of an age, and he remembered very distinctly her first visit when they had been young teens. Isabela curtsied gracefully to Emmeryn, and inclined her head to the royalty on the dias accompanying her, she met Chrom’s eyes and winked. Chrom looked away feeling a little warm around the collar suddenly, and deliberately avoided meeting Robin’s curious gaze. 

“We hope you enjoy your stay. Please inform Us if there is anything We may do to make your stay more comfortable.” Chrom was sure everyone had noticed that wink, his older sister included, but she appeared completely unfazed. “Now, you must be tired. We will have you shown to your rooms, the day is yours. And, if you would be so kind to indulge Us, We ask that you join Us for dinner in the evening to celebrate your arrival.” 

All four Feroxi inclined their heads in acknowledgement, but it was Isabela who spoke. “It would be our great pleasure, thank you, Your Majesty. You are as generous as you are kind. I think I can say with confidence, we will all attend most enthusiastically.” 

*

Robin was reasonably sure the attempt against Emmeryn wouldn’t happen until the day, more likely the night, of the Harvest Festival, but they still had to be wary. Currently he stood with Chrom in the Prince’s study. They were looking over a map of the palace, on it Robin had drawn routes, and scattered about were makers with tiny labels that displayed the names of all the Shepherds that had been called to help them. 

Emmeryn’s quarters were furthest in the Royal Wing, which on the one hand meant that it was harder to approach with any subtelity, but it also meant that they couldn’t patrol without being immediately apparent either. Robin had drawn a route close to her chambers, there was access to her rooms from two different points, which, now that Robin was trying to plan an efficient way to defend the Exalt, seemed like a design flaw to him. These routes led to the rest of the Royal Wing, and to the serving quarters. 

“We’ll need people at both points all throughout the night.” Robin explained, as he gestured to the points in question. “I’ve divided everyone up into pairs based on the information about them you gave me. We’ll have to rotate them out, take shifts, though I’m almost positive nothing will happen until the day of the festival, it seems unwise to leave that to chance.” He paused, considering for a moment, and then went on, “At this point it won’t be possible to hide what we’re doing, and what we think will occur from the Shepherds.” Robin looked up at Chrom from where he leaned slightly over the table, both hands holding onto the edge. “This is our last chance to change course.”

Chrom sighed a little, he had his arms crossed over his chest. He was frowning in thought, but he shook his head. “I trust them. Not one of the Shepherds would ever allow harm to come to myself or my family. I would wager my life on it.”

Robin nodded. He pushed away from the table, glancing down at the layout once more, considering the different ways it was possible attacks might come. “We could also have some people out on the grounds, is there any way to get into the palace I’m not aware of?” 

“Uh, yes, actually.” Chrom scratched his cheek looking a little sheepish. “I forgot about it until you asked just now, but some time ago I, uh, I broke part of the wall surrounding the perimeter of the palace.” 

Robin blinked. “You -- you  _ broke _ it?”

“It was an accident!” Chrom added hastily, his hands coming up in a defensive gesture. “I didn’t mean to, and anyway I think I may be the only one who knows of it.”

Robin continued to stare at him. Chrom fidgeted under his gaze, and Robin had to make himself look away. “You --” Robin started, but he wasn’t sure how to finish that thought. Chrom had broken part of the stone wall surrounding the palace, with -- what? His sword and the sheer unchecked strength of his determination? It was as impressive as it was almost terrifying, and Robin didn’t think now was the time to examine his reaction to this bit of new information about Chrom. Robin wet his lips and gestured to the map in front of them, decidedly steering the conversation back on topic. “Where is the break?”

  
  
  


Before any of the shifts happened however, Robin found himself spending more time with the Shepherds at the feast the Exalt was hosting for the Feroxi guests. He had spent some time with them, although almost all of them had been surprised to find that the rumours of Chrom’s sudden engagement were not only true, but it was in fact to the Prince of Plegia, and none of them seemed disposed to be unfriendly to him because of that. Maribelle was the exception, though her unfriendliness seemed to have more to do with who she was as a person rather than anything on Robin’s part specifically. And, even Maribelle’s sometimes cutting remarks had no real malice behind them, Robin had never felt so seamlessly folded into a group of people before. 

They had begun the dinner at the high table with the royal family and the Feroxi guests of honour, but as the night wore on Chrom had taken Robin to sit with his friends. In the days since they had all arrived there hadn’t been much time for them all to be together. The easy feeling of comradery between them made Robin feel welcome and at the same time a little jealous. When this was all over, he would return to his country, and he might never be part of a group like this again. 

“Do ya fight?” A voice suddenly demanded, it pulled Robin out of his reverie, and he realized Sully was speaking to him. 

“Yes?” 

Sully raised her eyebrows, clearly unimpressed with that answer. 

“I mean,” Robin said, “Yes. I can fight.”

She still looked unconvinced, she turned to Chrom. “Does he really?”

Chrom gave Robin a slightly apologetic smile, “I’ve never seen him fight personally. But, I can attest to his skills as a tactician.”

There was a murmur through the group. “I  _ can  _ fight,” Robin insisted, this time more firmly. “Just because Chrom has never seen it doesn’t make it untrue. Chrom has never seen Naga, but that doesn’t mean She doesn’t exist!”

The Shepherds laughed, and Sully slapped the surface of the table in front of her, “Good. Then while I’m here, we can have a match.” Sully grinned, and Robin instantly liked her, “Need to learn to fight against all that darn magic!”

“You need only ask for my assistance if you are in need,” interjected Miriel.

“Yeah!” Chimed in a young man Robin had met just yesterday, Ricken. 

Sully made a sound of dismissal, “Ain’t gonna hurt no kids there, half pint.” And Vaike nodded solemnly in agreement. 

This set the whole lot of them off again. In the midst of all the fuss, Robin almost didn’t notice when Isabela suddenly made her way over. She came to stand right where Chrom and Robin sat next to each other, she cleared her throat to get Chrom’s attention. He turned his head, and his gaze darted quickly to Robin, almost guiltily, before it went back to Isabela. 

“Mind if I join you, Highness?” Isabela asked, smiling at Chrom. 

“Oh. Oh!” Said Chrom, like the idea of sitting was novel to him. “Yes, yes, uh, of course. Yes.” 

Robin shot him a look, but Chrom refused to meet his eyes. Isabela made to sit between them, and they were forced to make room for her on the bench they sat on. 

“So,” she said, leaning in toward Chrom, “it’s been some time, hasn’t it? How are you, Your Highness?”

“Well, uh, actually, just, you know -- well. And, I’ve told you to call me Chrom.” Chrom didn’t meet either Isabela or Robin’s gaze, and Robin had no idea why he was suddenly acting like they had caught him dancing in the nude. He coughed, and made a visible effort to compose himself. “Um, this --” Chrom gestured to Robin, “This is Robin. I don’t believe you’ve been introduced. Isabela Ambassador of Ferox, this is Prince Robin of Plegia, my --” Chrom cleared his throat. “My betrothed.” 

Robin watched as Isabela slowly turned in her seat, and he braced himself. Instead of seeing hostility, dislike, or even a flat unimpressed look he was expecting from someone who was so openly flirting with Robin’s betrothed, he was met with a look of utter delight. 

“You are  _ engaged _ !” She didn’t wait for a reply. Instead Isabela bowed her head in greeting, and looked back up at Robin still grinning. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness, I had no idea!” She shook her head, and her dark curls bounced around her head, “I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible impression, please allow me to start over.” Isabela got up from her seat, even though both Chrom and Robin protested that she needn’t, and curtsied to Robin. “Your Highness, it is an honour as well as a pleasure to meet you. I so look forward to getting to know the lucky person who has managed to capture the young Prince of Ylisse’s heart.” Isabela sat back down, maneuvering her long skirts gracefully. “Now,” she said, briskly, and with an air of mischief. “As an apology, shall I tell you embarrassing stories about Prince Chrom when he was young?”

Robin found he was smiling. He liked Isabela too. “The honour is all mine,” he said. “And, yes, please.” 

  
  
  


The night before the Harvest Festival found Robin and Chrom patrolling the halls of the royal wing together. Fredrick had managed to pull some strings and make it so that the suspected spy was not on duty to stand watch at Emmeryn’s door since the Feroxi had arrived. Instead, Chrom and Fredrick had managed to replace the guards at Emmeryn’s door with Shepherds. They used the pretense of the Shepherds wanting to “sing for their supper,” and simply “do their part for the Exalt,” which, knowing the Shepherds as Robin did now, did not seem far fetched. 

It had just begun to rain when Chrom and Robin made their way up the hall toward Emmerny’s rooms. By now Robin was so used to Chrom’s presence it felt as if he didn’t take up space anymore. Not that Robin wasn’t aware of his physical presence, it was more as if he did not take up mental space. Robin wasn’t hyper aware of him as he had been in the beginning, he could relax with Chrom around, it was almost as comfortable as being alone. It was strange to find that being alone didn’t feel as comfortable as being with Chrom at times, and, stranger still, he  _ missed _ Chrom when they were not together. Which, in itself was a bit unnerving, Chrom seemed like a dangerous habit to develop.

Thunder rumbled as they slowly walked up the corridor. Chrom winced, he shot the nearby window a reproachful look. 

“Don’t care for thunderstorms?” Robin asked, giving Chrom a sidelong look.

Lightning flashed at that moment, and Chrom’s shoulder’s curled in almost imperceptibly. “No.” He replied, eyeing the window warily. 

Robin found this oddly endearing. “It’s only a storm, it cannot hurt you.”

Thunder rumbled again, the storm seemed to be quite close. Chrom turned to him looking a little wounded, as if Robin had betrayed him somehow. “It’s giant bolts of electricity in the sky, and loud, unnerving sounds, I think I am perfectly within my right to dread it.” More thunder, Chrom edged slightly closer to Robin, wincing again. “It truly doesn’t bother you?” Chrom asked. 

“Not at all,” Robin replied. They were at the end of the corridor now. Here there was a doorway that led to another short corridor which could be accessed by the other entrance, and broke off into the Exalt’s chambers, in a sort of “T” shape. They both turned back so they were facing the expanse of the hallway they had just walked up, at the end of which were both their rooms as well as Lissa’s. “Though, I was once.”

Robin could feel Chrom’s interest. They were leaning against the wall now, facing one of the small high windows in the corridor. Lightning flashed again, and Robin went on without prompting. 

“When I was a child, my parents would sit with me during thunderstorms. They taught me to count the seconds between thunder and lightning to gage how far the storm was. They are -- were -- both magic users. Lightning is just an extension of ourselves, a natural occurrence.” Robin paused, then added, “That’s what my father used to say, anyway.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, Chrom said, “I can see why that reassured you. The only helpful thing I can remember my father telling me was during swordsmanship training, ‘Widen your stance, Chrom.’” He mimicked, deepening his voice, and scowling. Then he turned his head to meet Robin’s gaze, and smiled a little sadly, “That’s one of the only things I can remember of him, to be honest.”

“Yes, well, perhaps that’s best,” said Robin, thinking of all the less than happy memories he had of and with his own father. 

“I’m sorry your father wasn’t a better parent to you.” 

Robin smiled a little too, he looked down at his feet, and then back at Chrom. “Likewise.” 

*

The morning of the festival found all the Shepherds gathered in Chrom’s rooms. There they all stood around the table in his study, looking over the map Robin had marked up. 

“This is the route the Exalt will take. While she is free to roam as she wishes, this is her suggested route, we will do our best to keep her on this path, it will be easiest for us to guard her. But if she diverts, then we will regroup around her,” Robin moved markers around, grouping them together at different points where paths broke off. “Chrom and I will stay with Emmeryn throughout the night. Fredrick and Lissa will scout ahead, and everyone else has their own assignments.” Robin looked up and around at the faces all uniformly serious for once, and Chrom felt a sort of pride to see his friends rally like this for him, for his sister, and for their Haildom. But, mostly he felt affection, he knew it was right to trust them implicitly. 

Around the circle the Shepherds nodded their heads. 

“Good,” said Robin, and turned to Chrom. “Anything to add?”

Chrom looked around at all the faces of his friends and comrades. “I know you have all come because I asked. And, I know together we will do what we could not alone. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” said Sully a little wryly.

“Thank us after the Exalt is safe and sound.” Added Vaike. “Preferably with gold, but I also accept treasures -- ow!” Maribelle had rapped him sharply on the arm with her parasol. “Just kiddin’. Maribelle, he knows I’m just kiddin’!”

Chrom smiled, feeling hope and optimism buoy him. He met Robin’s eyes, and the other young man smiled too. “Let’s save your sister.” 

  
  


“You wish to spend the day with me?” Emmeryn asked as they walked out into the grounds. Ordinarily the Exalt would enter the city on horseback, or in a carriage, but Emmeryn didn’t like being isolated , she insisted on literally walking among her people. So, they went out, two guards ahead, two behind, and Emmeryn accompanied by Robin and Chrom. “I thought you would have wanted to go on your own. We haven’t gone to the festival together since you were old enough  _ to _ go on your own. You’re sure you wish to stay with me?” Robin trailed just behind to give the two siblings some privacy, but Emmeryn lowered her voice further to say, “Wouldn’t you prefer some time alone?” She gave Chrom a look that was a little too knowing. 

He chose to ignore this last and said, “If we will be inconveniencing you --”

“You know that’s hardly true.”

“Then it’s settled.” 

His older sister gave him another look that said she knew there was something going on that Chrom wasn’t saying, Emmeryn had an uncanny way of seeming to guess his thoughts at times, but if she guessed them now, she did not say. Instead she said, “Very well, if that’s what you would both like.” 

“We would,” said Chrom firmly. 

Emmeryn smiled a little indulgently. “I suppose I should cherish these moments, when my younger brother still wishes to spend time with his older sister.” She sighed a little, playing at forlorn when her eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Before you start a family of your own, my sweet little brother.”

Chrom felt his ears burn, and he shot an involuntary look at Robin who had begun speaking with the guards behind them. He met Chrom’s eyes briefly, Chrom turned away quickly, back to his sister, before he could stop himself. “ _ Emmeryn _ .”

She laughed, smothering the sound into her long trailing sleeve. When she caught Chrom’s eye he felt the corners of his mouth twitch up. 

And then there was no more time for banter, because they were at the palace gates. They were met with the royal procession, and from there they made their way into the city. 

Lissa and Fredrick joined them too, and it was only once they were in the city proper that they were met with their people. They lined the streets, held back by members of Emmeryn’s guard, her people shouted and cheered as she walked through them. As she came to them, she signalled that her guard should stop holding her people back. They did not swarm or rush at her, they came up excitedly, to shake her hand, or give her various gifts. As she walked by Emmeryn was given so many flowers she had to hand back bouquets of them to her siblings and guards. Coming upon children she stopped, completely halting the procession to kneel before them, allowed the children to embrace her, and put flowers in her hair, she took some of the flowers she had been given and returned the favour. Watching Emmeryn interact with her people never failed to move Chrom’s heart. 

“They love her,” said Robin quietly beside him. Chrom turned his head. Robin wasn’t looking at him, he was gazing at Emmeryn, his expression something like awe. “I knew…” He paused, and then repeated, “I  _ knew _ they did. And, after meeting her I could understand why, but to see it with my own eyes...” Robin shook his head as if he didn’t have words for what it was like to witness this himself. And, Chrom could understand. After everything their father had put the people of Ylisse through, Emmeryn had strived to be everything he had not been, she was still trying to heal the wounds their father inflicted, as if she had absorbed his violence, and radiated out hope and kindness instead. “You’re very lucky.” Robin said after a moment, he still didn’t look at Chrom when he spoke. 

“Yes.” Chrom said, because it was true. 

Robin’s expression was complicated then, he looked looked down at his feet, and finally turned to meet Chrom’s eyes. “I won’t let you lose her.” 

The way he said it made Chrom’s heart squeeze.

“Yes,” he said again, because that was true too. 

“Your Highness!”

Both young men turned. Children had approached them too. They were all quite young, the oldest among them couldn’t be more than nine or so. Two of the smallest children, perhaps about four years old, came up, in their small hands they cradled flower crowns. None of the royal family were wearing any signifiers of their rank, they didn’t need to, their people knew who they were. So, when the oldest explained, “We made them, gifts for our Prince, and his betrothed.” The Princes exchanged a look, and then careful of the children around them, knelt in front of them. 

“Thank you,” said Chrom, smiling, “If you would do the honours?” And he inclined his head. He heard the children giggle, whisper loudly, coaxing and cajoling each other, and then felt the small hands carefully set the crown on his head. He saw and felt the movement at his side, and knew the same was happening to Robin. 

“There!” Proclaimed one of the children. 

Chrom lifted his head, and then adjusted the crown to sit a little better. He smiled at the children. “Thank you,” he said again. “May I ask your names?”

The children began to speak at once, one of them came up and shyly took his hand. Chrom smiled down at them and watched in fond amusement as the blush in their already pink cheeks deepened. Beside him Robin had his own circle of children, he seemed engrossed in listening to them as they all tried to teach him how to weave his own flower crown, all at the same time. One of the children said something that made Robin laugh. It was one of those laughs Chrom loved, surprised from him, full of genuine mirth, the kind that lit him up from within, and made it difficult to look away from him. 

Before they could say their goodbyes to the children, they extricated promises from the Princes to come back and play with them. They left with small bouquets of flowers, cards, and dolls handmade by the children. Robin held them all like they were gifts of the greatest value. He must have sensed Chrom’s gaze on him, because he suddenly looked up from his gifts and smiled at Chrom, warm and open. 

“That suits you,” Robin said, looking up at the crown on Chrom’s head. It was a crown of white daisies filled out with baby’s breath, and blue forget-me-nots. 

Chrom smiled too. “As does yours.” Robin’s was much the same, but the daisies were blue, and the forget-me-nots pink, the colours were striking against his fair hair. Chrom suddenly had the urge to run his fingers through it. 

The progress through the city into the main square was slow. Chrom and Robin were more careful after that to stick to Emmeryn, but she refused to walk by her people without greeting them. Sometimes they walked with her, but that was still slow. And, almost everyone had something to give her. There were young pages and squires who had been summoned from the palace whose sole purpose it was to take the things Emmeryn could no longer carry, and run it back to the palace. She was given food, cloth, jewellery, sweet smelling perfumes, soothing oils, and ointments, anything and everything the people could offer her. Emmeryn didn’t try to refuse, as Chrom had done when they were younger, instead she accepted, so obviously grateful, and happy to receive anything and everything that the gifter always glowed with pleasure. It was watching his sister so gracefully accept these gifts that Chrom had learned to do the same. 

When they were finally at the square, there was a small platform for Emmeryn already there. There were flower petals strewn about the cobblestones, making a colourful pathway for the Exalt to follow. And, when Emmeryn ascended her people cheered. She lifted her hand, smiling, and the noise dropped impressively quickly for a crowd of this size. 

“Thank you,” Emmeryn began. Her voice ringing out, clear and strong, with the obvious practice afforded by experience. “It is one of Our greatest pleasures to come and greet you all.” Scattered cheers and applause, “But,” continued Emmeryn, “this celebration is not for Us.” She said, gesturing to herself, and then extending a hand to indicate her family. “We are not the ones who have toiled, who have laboured in fields, who have dedicated their time and energy, who have grown and harvested, not only with expertise, but with love and care. You, Our cherished people of Ylisse, are the reason we celebrate today. For all the work you have done, for everything you will do, We are endlessly grateful. This is a debt We will repay you for, as your protectors, as your leaders, and as your servants. This country is given to Us only in trust, and We promise, for all you have done for us, to care for it as much as you have cared for everything We will enjoy this Harvest Festival.” They were hanging on her every word. The crowd was utterly silent, but there was an electric undercurrent throughout, Chrom could feel the noise ready to erupt once Emmeryn was done speaking. Emmeryn smiled again, she held her hands out to them, “Let the festivities commence!” 

The crowd roared their approval. 

Chrom turned to Robin, and again found him looking out at the people in wonder. Every time Chrom saw that look, awestruck, and almost disbelieving, it made something ache in his chest. It made him equal parts happy and sad. 

Because he couldn’t help it, Chrom held out his hand to Robin. “May I?” He asked, feeling his heart squeeze when that look on Robin’s face was turned on him. 

It was stupid to feel as relieved and grateful as he did, when Robin said simply, “Yes,” and placed a cool ungolved hand in Chrom’s. Instead of placating the urge in Chrom to touch Robin, the sensation of skin to skin seemed to only heighten that feeling. He was glad when Emmeryn began to move again, and there was something to distract him. 

The square was lined with booths, merchants selling wares, promoting their goods with samples. There were various contests held for best types of produce, and best kinds of livestock. There were contests and activities specifically for children, and where there were prizes involved, Emmeryn almost always stepped in to distribute them. 

As the day wore on Chrom felt a sense of dread. While it was still enjoyable to be out among his people celebrating, he could not fully relax. And, he knew he wouldn’t be the only one feeling this way. Chrom wished that things had been different, so the first Harvest Festival Robin experienced wouldn’t be one with the threat of an assassination looming on the horizon. Perhaps next year -- 

Chrom stopped that thought as abruptly as it started. Next year’s celebration would be back to normal, it would be the same as it always was. Perhaps, even, next year Chrom might come to this festival with someone else, engaged this time in truth, someone else’s hand in his, someone who did not have hair so fair it seemed to be spun of purest starlight, or eyes that were like amber in the glow of a lantern 

Chrom carefully, and firmly put that thought away, to examine properly how he felt about it, and what exactly it meant, another time. 

_ First I secure my sister’s safety, my country’s well-being, and then, perhaps…  _

First, Chrom had to get through the night. And, as the sun sank slowly into the horizon, all the plans they had painstakingly laid out were finally tested. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter length was just getting out of control so I cut it in two! Part 2 coming! Notice I didn't say "soon," but it will be here, I promise. 
> 
> If you celebrate(d) anything this time of year I hope you enjoyed it! If not I hope you had time to rest, and I hope 2020 is kind to you, we all deserve a better year, yeah? 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! ^^


	7. The Harvest Festival - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see there was no way I could put these two parts together, that would have been monstrous. I tried to cut down the length, but it's still pretty long, I'm sorry if it drags! 
> 
> Also, Chrom's PoV is brought to you by the song [Hard to Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FBdV1gJ5zoM) by One Ok Rock. Highly recommend, it gives me so many feels!!! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy chapter 7!

Night had fallen when they began to make their way back to the palace. Musicians played in the square, and people danced out under the stars. Their progress through the square was still slow with people coming to see the Exalt, though it seemed to Robin as if every person that lived in the city must have already come and greeted her. But, that didn’t seem to stop them from wanting to speak to Emmeryn one last time before she retired for the night. Seeing the way Emmeryn’s people adored her strengthened Robin’s feelings on two things. One: the Mad King could not be left to rule Plegia. Two: Robin could not rule either. 

“At this rate we won’t be back before the middle of the night,” said Chrom with a wry smile. 

“The perils of being loved,” said Robin seriously.

Chrom laughed, and Robin looked away, smiling. 

“Good people of Ylisse!” A voice cut through the noise, the music had stopped, and they all turned to see a small group moving through the crowd. They seemed to spot the Exalt at the same moment Emmeryn’s small guard spotted them. “Glorious Exalt, allow us to perform for you!” 

Emmeryn inclined her head, smiling gently. Robin took a good look at the small band, feeling uneasy. The make and cut of their clothing, the colour of their skin, their features, and the accent they spoke with, they were almost certainly from Ferox. 

“Wait -- “ Robin began, but his voice was lost to a loud gasp from the crowd that had reformed around this small band of entertainers. For that’s what they were, Robin realized. They had been wearing heavy cloaks, but with permission to perform they had thrown them off and revealed clothing in various shades of red that sparkled as it caught the light. There were five people in total, two had come forward immediately, holding torches and lighting them with a flick of the wrist. They moved in sync, lighting the other end, and then twirling the torches like batons. The other three were getting their own props ready while the two in front performed.

The crowd had moved in so tightly to see the performance that the guards were having a hard time keeping them from pressing against Emmeryn. As it was they had been pushed up closer to the performers than was perhaps advisable. 

“Chrom -- “ Robin tried again, reaching for his hand.

“Your Highness! Prince Chrom!” The man that appeared to be the group’s leader stepped forward, he carried a sword, and as he called Chrom, spun it in his hand, and it caught fire. The crowd cheered. “Would you do us the honour of assisting us?”

The crowd cheered their approval, and the two women who had been performing at the front of the group came forward to escort Chrom up. Robin was jostled slightly by the crowd that continued to push forward to get better views of the fire dancers. 

Although the leader of this small band was brandishing a flaming sword at Chrom, Robin wasn’t worried for him. He thought Chrom would be more than capable of defending himself, what he  _ was _ worried about was the fact that they had been separated, and that he could no longer see where Fredrick and Lissa were. Currently there were three members of Emmeryn’s guard around her not including Robin. He pushed slightly on one of the septactors to be closer to the Exalt.

“I hear his Highness is quite skilled with a blade!” The leader’s voice carried across the crowd, and Chrom was given his own flaming sword, which he took. “I ask you please hold back for a novice swordsman such as myself, but let us delight the crowd with a little swordplay!”

More cheers, Robin was jostled a little harder this time. The sound of steel striking steel cut through the crowd, ringing out with unmistakable clarity. Robin turned to look, and found Chrom easily parrying with the lead performer. Around them the rest of the troop appeared to be preparing something off to the side. Robin had a sudden ominous premonition. 

“Your Majesty!” Robin called, attempting to be heard over the sound of metal clanging, and hundreds of raised voices cheering. As the troop leader twirled his sword in a particularly flashy parry, the crowd pressed in again, this time forcing Robin away from the Exalt. He could still see her bright blonde hair, but what he didn’t see any longer were two members of her guard, there was only one soldier with her now. 

Robin thought furiously. What could be done? The best course of action seemed to be to have stopped this from happening in the first place, but, Robin could not turn back time. He could try to push back through the crowd and to Emmeryn. He could run forward and put a stop to the whole performance. The latter seemed easier, but would raise the most suspicion, cause the most commotion, and draw the most attention, which is exactly what had made Robin hesitate to act in the precious seconds he had before the whole thing had begun. 

Robin took a step forward determinedly. He would pull Chrom from them, they would disperse the crowd, and get Emmeryn out. The other Shepherds had been stationed close by, they would have support once they broke from the crowd. 

He only managed one more step before he saw Chrom and the leader of the performers jump dramatically back from one another. In the space that opened up between them the rest of the group came forward, they held deep bowls of what Robin assumed was oil, because fire rose up from their depths. They stood in a tight circle, back to back, the leader jumped to them, and they opened their ranks just enough to accept him. As one they held out the dishes they carried, leaning ever so slightly forward, and suddenly there was a giant burst of flame, as if an explosion had occurred. Huge and blazing, Robin managed to pull the civilians closest to him down when he dropped to the ground, but from the sound of the screaming, he knew not everyone had ducked in time. 

Panic, and fear made Robin’s ears ring. Or, perhaps it was the sudden shift in the atmosphere, from joyous delight to utter terror. Robin felt the heat of fire still blazing above him for long agonizing seconds as he heard cries of pain and fright. 

Robin pressed his nose against the fabric of his sleeve and took a deep breath in, he closed his eyes, seeing bright orange behind his eyelids, and felt the world melt away. His panic and fear subsided, he breathed slowly and deeply. He still felt the press of urgency, the need for action, but the terror in his own mind had been numbed, allowing him to move again. Robin had led his own troops in border patrols before, and it was in those times he had perfected the ability to clear his mind, and think, in this case, in the literal heat of battle. 

Careful not to crush the people by him, Robin turned over so he was face up. He held up his hands and began to summon wind, he pulled the air from the fire, directing it up higher, and watched the deoxygenated flames subside. 

When Robin stood he found chaos. 

Looking around he could not see the Exalt. For a second, Robin froze, despite his clear head he was directionless. 

“Robin!  _ Robin _ !”

He turned, coming toward him, looking hardly the worse for wear, was Chrom. People were running all throughout the square, which was now burning, and clearing out fast. 

“They took Emmeryn!” Chrom shouted over the noise.

Robin felt a chill go through him. 

Reading his expression, Chrom quickly corrected, “The guard! The guard took her, they were headed back to the palace!”

Without thinking, Robin hit Chrom in the arm. “Next time lead with that!” He shouted back, relieved. Chrom smiled a little and rubbed his bicep, which had probably taken less damage than Robin’s hand. 

“We need to help -- “ Chrom began, but broke off when he saw people rushing forward with buckets of water, Maribelle, Vaike, and Stahl with them, carrying their own pails and directing the citizens where to go. 

As if sensing their gaze Maribelle turned to look at them. She made a ‘shoo’ gesture, and shouted so she was just barely audible over the noise. “Go! We’ll be fine!”

Chrom and Robin both nodded, then turned without further prompting, and broke out into a run toward the palace. As they ran through the streets, dodging wreckage and frightened civilians, they saw more soldiers out to help restore the peace, and Robin hoped they would manage to catch the group of fire dancers who had disappeared leaving only chaos in their wake. 

“Chrom! Robin!” 

Emerging from one of the side streets were Sully and Ricken. Neither Prince slowed their pace, trusting that their friends would keep up with them. The four of them ran flat out to the palace, and came into a busy courtyard. It seemed as if all the palace staff had come out when they caught wind of the commotion. The guards were leaving in small groups to help the civilians, and some of the palace staff were going with them. Robin saw them hurriedly loading a cart with barrels of water. Silently, he wished them luck. Part of him wanted to go back and help, but he couldn’t leave Emmeryn in danger; he couldn’t leave Chrom. 

They slowed down in the courtyard, and Chrom seized the arm of one of the stable hands who seemed to be helping direct the chaos. “Did you see the Exalt and her guard come through here?”

Obviously startled, the older man said, “Yes, Highness! You must have just missed her, they went inside!” He pointed not to the main entrance, but to one at the side, a service entrance that went almost directly to the kitchens.

They started moving as soon as he pointed, and Chrom tossed a quick, “My thanks!” over his shoulder before they ran into the palace. 

“Where would they go?” Chrom asked, only just out of breath. 

Knowing he was asking him, Robin tried to think. If it were him, where would be take the Exalt? 

“The Exalt’s quarters!” 

No one said anything to that, all of them saving their breath, but they ran with new purpose. Soon they came to the fork in the path to Emmeryn’s rooms. There was a split second of hesitation, but Robin grabbed Chrom’s arm and steered him to the left, and flung his own arm out to the right yelling, “You two go that way!” 

Sully and Ricken did as they were told. 

As they had gone deeper into the palace, the noise from the outside had become more and more muffled. Making their way to the Exalt’s chambers Robin could hardly hear anything over the sound of their breathing, and their boots hitting the marbled floor. 

Chrom having more stamina, longer and stronger legs, was running just ahead of Robin. He reached the doors of Emmeryn’s rooms first, ominously unguarded. Pulling them open, the first thing that greeted them was sound. There was no one in the first room, but they could hear a commotion coming from deeper in. Robin recognized it right away, the unmistakable sound of a fight. 

Raised voices, the clammer of movement, and the sound of steel hitting steel; it drew them deeper into Emmeryn’s rooms and to her bedchamber. Arriving there they had mere seconds to take in the scene. 

Here again was the Feroxi troop, who looked markedly different now that they wore plain white masks, and all of them carried weapons. They were also not alone, Pricilla, the suspected traitor in Emmeryn’s guard was standing with them, short spear in hand. Around the room lay the bodies of other members of Emmeryn’s guard, dead or unconscious Robin could not discern. The troop had corned the only guard Emmeryn had left, Fredrick. He stood with his back to the foot of the bed, where, Robin could just make out her figure, Emmeryn lay unmoving. 

“EMMERYN!” Chrom shouted, and all eyes turned to him. 

He took down his first opponent with ease. Pricilla came to face him, and Robin saw him hesitate. 

“ _ Why _ ?” Chrom asked, as if the question were pulled from him. Hurt and anger the two clearest emotions in his voice.

Chrom’s anguish was reflected back to him on Pricilla’s face. Her eyes shone with tears, “Your Highness,” she said, “I’m so sorry.” 

Taking advantage of the distraction Chrom’s outburst had caused, Fredrick engaged one of the fire dancers. One of them came to join Pricilla, and the other two made for Robin. Briefly, Robin considered using his magic, but he quickly discarded that idea. In these close quarters, it was just as likely his magic would be a hindrance rather than a help. Instead he drew the sword at his back and faced the two Feroxi. 

It was immediately apparent to Robin that they were accustomed to fighting together. The way the two fire dancers played off each other’s moves was something that could only be achieved with years of practice. 

Robin dodged the swing of an axe, and in that same motion dropped to the ground, rolling to avoid the stab of a short spear that followed. Jumping up with only a second to make sure it was safe to do so, Robin swung out catching one of the Feroxi on the shoulder. He could feel that his sword hadn’t gone in enough to damage the arm, but the cut wasn’t shallow either, it would hinder movement, which Robin knew his opponent could feel from the expression on his face. 

His companion, a rather tall woman, began aggressively attacking Robin to make up for her partner’s injury. Her axe swings were powerful, and rather fast, but still too slow to completely block Robin. He waited for an opening that came rather quickly, and now that she was fighting without the benefit of the precision of their earlier attacks, Robin parried easily, and swung up hard, wrenching the axe out of her grip and risking a bit of wind magic to throw his opponent against the wall. He heard the crack of bone against stone, and wasn’t surprised when the axe- wielder did not get up. 

Her partner, the short spear fighter, ran to her side, and Robin took the opportunity to see how the others were doing. Fredrick seemed to be having trouble getting within range of his opponent who was using lightning magic. They kept shooting lightning just in front of where Fredrick moved, pushing him back. The ground smouldered where lightning had struck, and Robin thanked the gods nothing had caught fire yet. From the charred patch of armour on his shoulder, Robin could tell Fredrick had already been hit. Robin glanced quickly at Chrom who was currently engaging his two opponents, and decided Fredrick needed him more. 

Fredrick had been pushed out through the open doors of the balcony, and unsuccessfully tried to dodge the next bolt of lightning shot at him. It missed his head, where it had been aimed, but caught his ankle when he rolled. Robin ran forward summoning wind and caught the magic user unawaress. He pulled the air from the space the magic user was standing in, heard the faint gasping noises they made, and waited until they fell to their knees before he stopped. Down on all fours now, Fredrick had no trouble swiftly knocking them out. He looked up at Robin, and nodded in thanks. Robin nodded back, and then turned to help Chrom. 

In the second after Robin turned, he saw Chrom, sword braced against Pricilla’s throwing spear, unaware he had a sword swing aiming for his unguarded side by the leader of the troop. 

“ _ Chrom _ !” Robin yelled, acting before he could think. 

Chrom pushed against Precilla, making her stagger back and giving him room to dodge, but he was too slow. The troop leader was fast, but Robin was faster. Summoning his magic from the other side of the room, Robin caught the leader’s sword hand with a magnificent bolt of lightning. There was the sound of static, the whole room seemed to fill with the electric charge, and then the troop leader cried out, the sword in their now blackened hand falling to the ground. 

Before anyone else to move, a group of people suddenly burst through the door. It was Sully and Ricken, accompanied by Isabela and her personal guard. Isabela looked furious. 

“Guards!” She called, the anger in her voice sounding barely restrained. “Seize these poor excuses for Feroxi citizens!” They moved at once. “Not you,Tamir!” She pointed at one of her guards, “Go and fetch a healer, hurry!” 

The guard bowed and ran off. 

Chrom meanwhile had run to Emmeryn’s side, Robin joined him there. 

“Is she - ?” 

“She’s breathing,” Robin said, holding her wrist, he felt Emmeryn’s faint pulse. 

“The Exalt was given something that made her sleep,” said Fredrick, limping over to them, holding his shoulder, but without a flicker of pain on his face. “It was some kind of powder. They threw it at Emmeryn and her guard, I just saw them do it when I arrived here.” 

Robin looked around at the guard lying on the floor, unconscious, and not dead, and felt some relief. 

Isabela appeared at their side then. She looked between all of them, and then at Emmeryn. “The Exalt, you said she was hit with something?”

“Some kind of knockout powder, I believe.” Fredrick replied. 

Isabela’s expression of worry deepened. “You saw it?” Fredrick nodded. “Did it look silvery white?” Fredrick nodded again, and Isabela paled, she whipped around and pointed at Ricken. “You, boy!” Ricken looked at her clearly startled, but the fierce and agitated way she spoke seemed to stop him from trying to give her his name. “Two of my guard remained down at the stables, tell them to return to Ferox at once. Tell them they must retrieve the antidote for the Gentle Sleep, for at least six people, go! Go!” Still looking startled, and like he wanted to ask questions, Ricken turned and ran. 

Isabela looked back at them, her expression grim, she took a breath, making a visible effort for calm. They all looked at her expectantly. “I know you have questions, let me explain. He says,” she indicated Fredrick, “that the Exalt was hit with a white shimmering powder that made her sleep. It’s a rare substance in Ferox, banned in the Kingdom. It’s commonly known as the “Gentle Sleep,” because it leaves its victims in a state that looks like sleep. It does paralyze them, but it works like poison, eventually it will slow down the movements of their internal organs until they stop altogether.” She looked at Chrom who appeared stricken. “I’m so sorry, Chrom.”

“But,” said Chrom, like he couldn’t quite grasp what Isabela was saying. “There’s an antidote, you sent your people for one.”

“There is,” Isabela confirmed. “But it needs to be administered within twenty-four hours to be completely effective. After that, it may save the affected person’s life, but they will never wake again.”

Chrom stared at her, without a word he looked back at his older sister, seemingly sleeping peacefully, and dropped his head over her hand, which he held in both of his. 

Robin thought about reaching out, about putting a hand on Chrom’s shoulder, or trying to say something encouraging, but looking at the tension in his back, Robin found that he couldn’t. 

“My Lady,” Isabela, Fredrick, and Robin all looked up. It was one of Isabela’s soldiers. “We have secured all of the assassins. Shall we bring them to the dungeons?” 

“My Lady, if you would,” Fredrick spoke now, and they all turned to look at him. “We have secure cells for magic users, Sully, if you could escort them?” Sully nodded from her spot by the door guarding the now prisoners, her expression grim. “Would you please put Pricilla in the isolate cell? Make sure she has nothing but plain garb and a bare mattress, we will need to question her later.” 

Pricilla was now unconscious too, and Isabela turned from Fredrick to the Captain of her guard. “You have your orders.” The soldiers bowed, and they hauled the prisoners out. 

A moment later, in which they all silently regarded Emmeryn, another of Isabela’s guard came in, this time followed by the palace healer, and Lissa. 

“Emmeryn!” She raced to her sister’s side. She looked at all of them, taking in their sober expressions, and her face fell. “What?” She asked, panic in her voice. “What is it?”

Chrom stood up. He had been sitting next to his sister, now he gently picked her up. “I don’t want her to stay here, I’ll bring her to my rooms.” They all made way for him, and he left. Robin heard Fredrick explaining the situation to Lissa. 

It felt as if all their careful planning had come to nothing. They had fought off all their enemies, they had uncovered the traitor in their midst, and still they had lost. Robin felt frustrated, guilty, and helpless. What good were all his strategies if they could not save lives? What was the point of anything if Emmeryn died anyway? 

More soldiers came in, this time of Ylisse, and they helped carry their comrades out and to the infirmary. 

Robin trailed behind as they left the Exalt’s rooms, and saw Vaike, Maribelle, and Stahl hurrying down the hall, they went directly to Lissa and Fredrick, and Robin looked away. He didn’t want to see their expressions as they were told the grim news. He turned and went in the opposite direction.

At first, Robin went with only the intention of getting away, and then he headed deliberately to the garden. Once there he sat on the bench close to one of the corners of the garden, and felt just how tired he was. The adrenaline that had been coursing through him since the town square was now receding and leaving exhaustion in its wake. 

The garden was more sparse now, the colourful leaves had mostly fallen, and most of the plants were bare now. The breeze blowing through was crisp and biting, now that the sun had set it was much cooler. He ignored the chill however, Robin stared out at the garden and tried to let his mind go blank, but it was hard not to dwell on the events that had just transpired. He played them out in his mind over and over, looking at them from different angles. In his head he made different decisions, he saw different and better outcomes. The night ending in their triumphant victory, Chrom’s smiling face, his blue eyes bright and happy. 

Robin closed his eyes against the sudden emotion that flooded him. More than anything, he didn’t want to see that light in Chrom’s eyes go out. He didn’t want to see what he might look like if his sister, the one they had fought so hard to save, died despite all their efforts. Chrom didn’t deserve to lose the sister who was almost like a mother. Ylisse didn’t deserve to lose their Exalt, and Emmeryn didn’t deserve to lose her life like this. She was a good ruler, and a good person. 

“It’s not fair,” Robin whispered. He thought of his mother, and his eyes stung. “It’s not  _ fair _ .”

“It isn’t.”

Robin jumped, startled. He looked up and saw Chrom come towards him, moving silently. For once, he wasn’t smiling when he looked at Robin. Robin’s heart squeezed painfully. 

“May I join you?”

“Of course.”

Chrom sat next to him, heavily, and Robin thought he was probably also feeling the stress of the day. He sat with his shoulders slumped, his head slightly bowed, and his hands held loosely between his knees. 

After a moment in which Robin waited for Chrom to speak and he said nothing, Robin said gently. “I thought you would stay with your sister.”

“I planned to,” Chrom replied after a long exhale. “But, the healers wanted to try different medicine to slow down the poison. They said I was getting in their way.” Chrom lifted his head and gave Robin a smile that was utterly heartbreaking. “I left when Lissa yelled at me. When Lissa needs to scold me, then I know I’m really being a nuisance.” 

“You just wanted to watch over your sister,” Robin said, reaching out, and then letting his hand fall to rest on the bench between them. “That’s perfectly understandable.”

Chrom smiled again, but it was still pained. It made something in Robin desperate. He wanted so badly to do something to take the pain away, he could feel it mount in his body like the tension of an upcoming battle, the urge to move, to urge to  _ act _ . 

“Is - “ Robin had to swallow the emotion welling in his throat, “Is there anything I can do?” He almost added ‘ _ For you,’ _ but he let that go unsaid. 

There was a short pause, but then Chrom ran a hand through his hair. He glanced at Robin, and then away. Speaking to the hands that were loosely clasped again, he said, “You don’t have to force yourself.”

“I’m not,” replied Robin immediately. “If there’s something I can do, I want to do it. Please, let me -- anything. Just ask.” 

Chrom seemed to hesitate, and then looked at him, turning only slightly, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Would you -- you can say no, I just --” Chrom exhaled, a little shaky. “I’d like it if you could -- if it’s all right, of course -- “ Robin waited for him to get the words out. “If you could -- hold me?”

Surprised, Robin didn’t reply immediately. Chrom turned away again, and Robin noticed the tip of his ear had gone red. Robin’s heart beat a funny rhythm in his chest, and he felt his own face warm. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant.

“I’m sorry I asked!” Chrom blurted, a few seconds later, seemingly unable to contain himself. “It’s too much -- I shouldn’t have -- please don’t think --!” 

Smiling a little, Robin moved closer to him on the bench. Carefully, he put his arms around Chrom’s shoulders. He felt him tense in surprise, and then quickly relax. Robin pressed his cheek to Chrom’s shoulder. 

“It’s not too much.”

He felt Chrom’s arms come up, they went around his waist, and he pressed his face into the space between Robin’s neck and shoulder. His warm breath tickled, but Robin didn’t let himself dwell on how nice that was. 

Under the night sky, they sat together like that for a long while. 

*

Simply waiting was one of the hardest things Chrom had ever done. It was endlessly frustrating to know there was nothing to do. There was nothing for Chrom to hit, nothing for him to swing a sword at, not even any kind of puzzle he could attempt to solve. Literally the only thing he could do for Emmeryn in that moment was wait by her side. 

It was now early morning, the sun not quite up yet during the now shorter days. Chrom had come back to his room a few hours ago. He had found Lissa lying on top of the blankets next to Emmeryn. At first Chrom thought she had been sleeping, but she lifted her head when he came in, and Chrom saw her red rimmed eyes. He walked over and, in a rather uncommon show of affection, briefly kissed her forehead. Lissa gave him a small smile, and he walked around the bed, Chrom pulled a chair over to the bed, reached out and took his older sister’s hand. 

“How is she?” He had asked quietly, more for something to say, not because he didn’t already know the answer.

“The same,” Lissa had replied, her voice a little raspy. Carefully, she eased herself up. They then both looked at Emmeryn, as if they expected Lissa’s movement to wake her, as if she were truly only sleeping. Emmeryn didn’t stir, only continued to breathe evenly. 

Now Lissa did sleep. She had fallen into an uneasy sleep not long ago, but Chrom still couldn’t manage it. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel tired, he didn’t think he had ever been more tired, but he simply couldn’t relax enough to sleep. He had briefly considered going to train, for something to do, but the thought of being away from Emmeryn even longer drove him back. So, he sat, and simply watched his two sisters breathe quietly in and out. 

He stretched in his seat, feeling the muscles in his neck and back shift. He was starting to get sore, but Chrom merely shifted a little in his seat, and didn’t get up. He closed his eyes, and tried again for sleep. 

Chrom couldn’t do it. He kept seeing his sister lying on her bed, her long hair spilling over the edge of the mattress, her normally regal figure exchanged for the haphazard way she was lying on the bed. A dull kind of anger sparked in him, but even that couldn’t seem to move him. He could have gone down to the cells, perhaps start the interrogation of the prisoners, but he couldn’t make himself leave. 

After some time, Chrom heard the faint sounds of someone else entering his rooms. He lifted his head, opening his eyes, and found that the sun was finally coming out. 

It was Robin, he was still dressed in the same clothing, now disheveled, as if he had been lying in it. 

He hovered by the entrance to Chrom’s bedchamber, the door was partially open. He caught Chrom’s eye, and carefully opened the door another fraction. Quietly he asked, “May I?” Chrom nodded. Silently, Robin made his way over. He looked around for another place to sit, but there were no other seats, and Chrom could tell from his expression he didn’t consider the bed an option. Chrom was just about to tell him he could have his seat, when Robin walked over to him and sat by his feet. He leaned his side against Chrom’s leg. 

Robin sat hugging his knees, “Sorry,” he said, just loud enough for his voice to reach Chrom. “I couldn’t sleep, and -- I didn’t want you to be alone.” He added hastily, “I know Lissa is here, you’re not alone, but, I just --” He broke off, and Chrom watched him shake his head. From his position, he couldn’t see Robin’s expression at all, but from his body language, and the tone of his voice, he thought he could imagine what Robin’s expression might look like. He found that oddly comforting. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here,” Chrom whispered. 

Despite the fact that Chrom wanted very much to see his face, Robin didn’t turn to look at him. He did, however, rest his head against Chrom’s knee. Chrom felt his heart beat, as if it had been still all this time, and was working again only now. Chrom hadn’t realized how much he missed Robin until he was back. He felt soft, and utterly ridiculous, he had been with Robin only hours before.

“Chrom?” Lissa’s small voice was hoarse with sleep, she sounded young, far younger than she was. It reminded him of when they were children and Lissa would wander into his rooms in the middle of the night clutching her stuffed animals.  _ “Chrom? I can’t sleep.”  _

“I’m here,” he called softly. 

Lissa stirred, rubbing her eyes, and then carefully sat up. She blinked at them, Robin had lifted his head off of Chrom’s knee, but continued to sit leaning against him. When she caught sight of Robin she smiled, just a little. 

“Keeping my brother company? Good, he thinks too much when there’s no one around.” Then she looked at Chrom, hesitated, and asked tentatively, “How much time has passed?”

Chrom turned to look out the window. Judging from the position of the sun now, “About eight hours.” 

Lissa nodded, but didn’t say anything. There was still time, but as it continued to slip by without any regard for their desperate need for it to slow down, the dread they all seemed to feel mounted. Sixteen hours left. It took approximately six hours to fly from the capital of Ylisse to the capital of Ferox, twelve hours total, but the question was how quickly could they have the antidote be made. Isabela had sent messenger birds out in an attempt to speed things along with the acquisition, but there was no real way to know how long it would take to gather what was needed. None of them knew what went into the antidote, and Isabela had promised to come to them when she heard back from her various contacts. She had written to the Khans as well, but not enough time had yet passed for a return message to reach them. 

The three of them sat in silence, Emmeryn the only one that seemed peaceful. After a long while someone else appeared, Fredrick came into the room with Maribelle. Like the rest of them, they continued to wear yesterday’s clothing, and the dark circles under their eyes revealed that they hadn’t managed to sleep either. 

“Highnesses,” Fredrick said quietly. They all spoke softly, and that suddenly struck Chrom as almost funny. There was no need to keep their voices down, Emmeryn was not sleeping, but they all seemed to find it necessary. “The Shepherds are taking turns guarding the prisoners along with the palace guards. We’re still awaiting word from Ferox. Lady Isabela is currently in the mess hall, she asked if you might join her.”

“Who?” Chrom asked.

Fredrick gestured, “All of you. It’s been a long night, none of us have slept, and I imagine none of us yet will. She’s asked that you have something to eat with her.”

“Yes, go, stretch your legs. I daresay you all need to.” Maribelle interjected. She walked over to Lissa and offered her her hand, “We’ll sit with the Exalt until you come back.”

Lissa looked as if she wanted to argue, and Chrom was of a similar mind, but then Robin was standing up, almost as gracefully as he always did, and turned to look at Chrom. He held out his hand too. “Just for a moment, then we’ll come right back, okay?” His voice was gently coaxing, and the way he was looking at Chrom was just as soft. It surprised Chrom again how much he was affected by Robin’s presence in that moment. 

He took Robin’s hand without thinking. “Okay,” he agreed. They headed to the door together, all of them looking back at Emmeryn before they left, and without speaking made their way to the mess hall. 

“Your hand is cold,” Robin remarked softly when they were almost at their destination, he had still been holding Chrom’s hand. “You’re usually so warm.” Robin lifted his hand slightly and held it between both of his, gently rubbing, as if he were trying to warm Chrom up. 

“It’s too early in the morning for you two to be all lovey - dovey,” Lissa complained before Chrom could say anything. 

Both young men turned to look at her. Chrom saw Robin’s face take on colour as his own cheeks heated. 

“It’s too early in the morning for you to be a pain in my neck,” Chrom shot back. 

They bickered back and forth, but without the same enthusiasm they normally had. It felt more as if they were doing it as a matter of course, neither of them really had their heart in it. 

Arriving at the mess hall, Isabela sat with some of her own guard, and some of the palace guard. Everyone looked tired and listless, though Isabela was the only one in fresh clothing. She looked up when they came in, and tried for a smile, “Thank you for joining me, Highnesses.” 

Lissa and Chrom sat across from Isabela, and Robin sat beside her. They had all detoured to pick up a bowl of oatmeal first. It was still warm, sweetened with brown sugar, and topped with dried red currants. 

As they began to eat Isabela spoke. “I was talking to the soldiers a moment ago,” she said, “They told me that all is well again in the city.” 

Chrom felt guilt clench in his stomach. He put down his spoon. In all his worry over Emmeryn he had almost forgotten about the fire that had been raging in the city. 

“What’s the extent of the damage? Any casualties?” He asked. 

“No deaths, my Prince.” Chrom turned to look at one of the guards sitting a few seats down the table. She was a senior member of the palace guard, and one of the people Robin and Chrom had spoken to in their investigation. “There were many injuries, most of them were taken care of by the Princess and the Lady Maribelle, some still remain in the infirmary, but we believe they will recover well. But, one of the guards has lost a leg, my Lord.”

“Who?”

“Terrance, Your Highness.”

Chrom knew him, he nodded. “I’ll be sure to check in on him when --” he broke off, unsure how to end the sentence. “When I have time.” Chrom finished after an awkward pause in which everyone seemed to understand what he was thinking. 

More guards came, and when Chrom asked they told him of the state of the city. Homes and shops burned or damaged, but with no civilian casualties, most people seemed to be more concerned for the Exalt. One of the guards who just arrived from the city reported that someone had leaked the information, and now the city was restless for news about Emmeryn. With Emmeryn unwell it fell to Chrom to oversee the well being of his people. Internally he berated himself for forgetting his position so easily. 

Chrom finished his oatmeal, forcing himself to eat the whole bowl, knowing he was physically more hungry than he was actually feeling. He then got up resolutely. 

“Thank you for dining with us,” he said to the table at large, nodding to Isabela specifically, who smiled at him. “I have been remiss of my duties. Lissa, I entrust Emmeryn’s care to you, please contact me the moment there’s any news.”

“I’ll go with you!” Lissa said, getting up too. “I can help!”

“I know you can,” said Chrom, gently. “But, this is my responsibility, and I would feel better if one of us was with her if I can’t be.” 

Lissa didn’t object to that, she nodded, and Chrom was glad he didn’t need to argue. 

“I’ll go with you.”

“As will I.”

Both Robin and Isabela were standing now too. 

“But first,” Isabela said, smiling a little wryly, “I think we should all take a moment to wash up. No offense meant Highnesses, but neither of you are the picture of reassurance at the moment.”

Robin and Chrom looked at each other. It was true that they both looked like they had spent a restless night not sleeping. Robin’s hair stood up in odd places, Chrom’s jaw was starting to darken with stubble, and both of them still wore yesterday’s clothing, now disheveled and stained. 

“You have a point.” 

  
  


Not long after the three of them, Isabela, Robin, and Chrom, met again in the courtyard. There Chrom began to speak to the senior members of his staff to get a proper idea of what was happening. 

In the absence of their rulers, the people had organized themselves, and it was truly a credit to Emmeryn’s organization of her emergency measures, because the chain of command had begun tackling issues at once. Chrom was surprised by how little he had to step in himself, everything was mostly running smoothly without him. In the end Isabela stayed in the palace to await word from her contacts, and Chrom and Robin went to the infirmary. 

There Chrom did the best he could to boost morale. He went over to speak to each person, checked in with the healers, and made sure they had enough supplies. Robin was with him, speaking with family members who had come to visit. 

After there were various domestic issues to see to. Ensuring there were enough medical supplies, enough food, enough clean sheets, and bedding, and then seeing to the acquisition of supplies for the lost and damaged homes and shops. 

In the afternoon, fourteen hours after the initial incident, Isabela received word from the Khans. In it Flavia, the ruling Khan, said her best healers and apothecaries were working on an antidote. After this news Chrom went into the city. He tried his best to emulate his sister, and though he didn’t think he did nearly as much as she would have with her mere presence, he did his best to reassure his people that everything would be well, that they would be taken care of regardless of what happened. 

Throughout all this Robin stayed by his side. There wasn’t much he could do but talk to the Ylissean people, or offer suggestions, much the same as Chrom was doing, but it was immeasurably comforting to simply have him there. Now and again Robin would take his hand, and squeeze it gently. That touch felt grounding, Robin’s cool hand was almost the only real thing in this sudden tangle of surreal events. Chrom wasn’t sure what he would have done without him. 

Sixteen hours later they received another missive. It said that the antidote was being made, all ingredients having been located, and would soon makes its way to them. Bolstered by this news, Chrom made himself eat something for lunch, and then he and Robin joined in the rebuilding of the houses. 

“Oh, no, please, Your Highness, there’s no need!” An older man hurried over to Chrom when he bent to pick up a wheelbarrow to help clear away the remaining charred debris. 

“I’m afraid that there is every need, sir.” Chrom said seriously.

Robin smiled at the man as he shovelled a heap of detritus into the wheelbarrow. “I wouldn’t try arguing with him, sir, Chrom is very stubborn when he’s made up his mind.”

“Robin knows me well,” Chrom said.

The man looked like he didn’t know how to reply to that, so both Princes continued working.

Most of the work had already been done. It seemed as if the people had been working tirelessly since the break of dawn, and though people still tried to talk them out of performing physical labour alongside them, both Chrom and Robin refused to stop. 

More hours passed. Chrom felt it was easier to wait while being productive. A large part of him still felt guilty, guilty for leaving his sister’s side, and guilty for not coming to help sooner, but the other part was relieved to finally have something to do. Something he could accomplish with his own two hands in the moment, and see immediately the results of his work. 

Twenty hours since the attack the sun had fully set. Chrom and Robin returned to the palace. They took food up to Emmeryn’s room and found quite a few people in there now. Isabela, Lissa, Maribelle, and the palace healer were all there already. The healer was holding Emmeryn’s wrist, clearly taking her pulse. She frowned, and looking at Chrom as he came in said, “Her pulse is slower.”

Chrom looked immediately at Isabela who looked unsurprised, but concerned. “That is how it works. Soon she will begin to have trouble breathing as the poison slows down her heart and lungs.”

It felt as if Chrom had been plunged into ice water. The cold truth of Emmeryn’s possible death came back with an urgency. Not that it had ever left Chrom, it was more a specter haunting him throughout the day, but now Chrom had to look it full in the face. The possibility of losing Emmeryn had never been more real, and never harder to accept than in that moment. 

“The antidote is on its way,” Lissa said, it seemed as if she were trying to sound assertive, sure, but there was a note of panic in her voice that betrayed her. “Emmeryn will be okay.”

“Yes,” Maribelle agreed, taking Lissa’s hand. 

When the healer was done she hesitated by the door. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have so many people here at once.”

“I’ll go,” Isabela got up, and Maribella reluctantly followed her. 

“Call us if you need anything.”

Robin, who was sitting on the arm of the chair Chrom sat in, made to leave as well. Chrom caught his hand.

“Stay?” He stayed.

Another hour passed, Emmeryn’s breathing, which had been peacefully quiet, suddenly became audible. They all looked at her, it sounded as if she were having trouble taking in enough air. 

Chrom and Lissa exchanged a look, he felt as if all his feelings were being reflected to him on his younger sister’s face. She was sitting on the bed with Emmeryn again, and Chrom was holding Emmeryn’s hand. He put his fingers on her wrist, and felt her pulse, indeed, beat more slowly than it had this morning. When he had felt her pulse earlier, it had been reassuring, knowing she was still alive. Now it made him anxious, it made his own heart beat pick up, and the need to  _ do  _ something flow through him with the sudden rush of blood. 

Waiting was absolute torture. 

“What’s Emmeryn’s favourite colour?” Robin asked suddenly. 

Both siblings looked at him. Lissa replied, “Green,” she said. “Why?”

“I just realized that I didn’t know,” Robin answered. He looked at Chrom, “Was that the colour you tried to paint her walls?”

It took Chrom a second to follow the thread of this sudden conversation, but then he smiled, remembering. “Yes. It was for her birthday, I drew her portrait in sea foam green I had one of the stable boys buy for me. I was,” he paused, considering, “four, I think.”

“I don’t remember that,” said Lissa, sitting up a little straighter now.

“You would have only been about two,” said Chrom, “Of course you don’t.”

“Did you get in trouble with father?”

Chrom shook his head. “Emmeryn moved her armchair to cover it. I think it’s still there.”

Lissa laughed a little, “That’s better than the time I tried to give her tadpoles.”

“I still can’t believe you just left them in her bathtub.”

“I was five!”

“What’s your excuse now?”

As they bickered this time, Chrom felt more like himself. He caught Robin watching them fondly, and realized he had asked his earlier question hoping to spark precisely this reaction. 

Robin got up to get them water after some more friendly banter, when the door suddenly burst open. A young girl came running in, out of breath. 

“Pegasus fliers spotted, Your Highness!” 

They stood at once. 

“Should I --?”

“I could stay if --?”

“Go!” Robin was gesturing for them to follow the young girl. “I’ll stay with the Exalt, go and see what’s happening!”

Without thinking, caught up in the moment, feeling hope well in him, Chrom turned back to Robin, and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. “Thank you!” He said, and turned to hurry after Lissa who was already following the young girl out. 

It was only as they came into the courtyard that Chrom’s actions caught up to his brain, but by then he was preoccupied by the small white figures in the sky that were making their way toward them. 

“Chrom!” Isabela was outside already, along with most of the Shepherds. “They’ll be here in minutes!”

They all stood staring up at the sky, watching the figures come closer and closer, until finally they were unmistakably a small group of pegasus riders. They circled once, and landed in the clearing left for them. Chrom recognized a couple of them from Isabela’s guard. 

“My Lady!” She called, as she jumped down, she had a small satchel strapped across her chest. “I have it! Please, where should I --?”

They all spoke at once, and eventually Maribelle’s voice cut across the din. “Follow the Prince!” 

Chrom turned, and hurried back into the palace, all of them following after. 

Robin was still in the room with Emmeryn, as promised, and he looked up when they all came in. 

“Is it --?”

“Yes!” 

Robin’s smile was radiant. 

Someone had summoned the healer, and this time she came accompanied by two others. The best healers in Ylisse. They pushed their way into the room through the crowd now standing around Chrom’s bedchamber. Emmeryn’s rooms had been repaired, but Chrom had instructed she stay in his room. It was silly, but it set his mind at ease to have her here. 

“Excuse me, excuse me!”

The senior healer took the bag from Isabela’s guard, and extracted a small vial from its depths. With the vial was also a scroll. Chrom felt his impatience mount as the healer unfolded the scroll and read slowly, he began to fidget and Lissa jabbed him in the side. 

She passed the scroll to the other healers, and after they all read it, she finally unstoppered the bottle. One of the healers gently lifted Emmeryn up, then lifted the vial to Emmeryn’s lips. 

It seemed as if the whole room was holding its breath, no one had eyes for anyone but Emmeryn. They all watched with rapt attention as the healer carefully closed Emmeryn’s mouth, and laid her gently back down. 

They waited.

Seconds ticked by, but there was no response from Emmeryn. 

The energy from the room was beginning to shift from excited anticipation to confusion, and concern. 

“What’s happening?”

“Why isn’t she waking?”

“Is that supposed to happen?”

The senior healer turned abruptly to all of them, they had all clustered at the door. Impatiently she pointed to the door. “Out! Everyone out, we need to work!”

“But -- “ Chrom tried. 

She came to physically push them out. “ _ Out! _ ”

They all exited. And watched as the doors closed behind them. 

“What’s happening?” Chrom demanded, turning to Isabela.

Obviously startled, she replied honestly, “I don’t know. I’ve only seen it used once, it worked instantly.” Seeing the look on Chrom’s face she hastily added, “But, I don’t know if that is common!”

Chrom turned from Isabela and began to pace. Emmeryn would be okay. They had the antidote. They hadn’t done all this for nothing. Chrom had not waited all day, felt that sudden pure and beautiful burst of hope for nothing. He would not feel it twist into anguish. He would not. He  _ could _ not. 

“Chrom,” Lissa tried, but he didn’t stop pacing. If the wait before was hard, this was agonizing. Every minute seemed to weigh on Chrom. He felt the chances of Emmeryn’s survival slip away with each of them that passed, he felt his acute powerlessness. 

No one said anything. They all waited in tense silence for some kind of news. 

Five minutes. 

Ten. 

Twenty. 

Chrom felt as though he might lose his mind. 

Finally, after half an hour of waiting, the doors opened again. He raced over, feeling the presence of others at his back. 

The senior healer came out, she looked tired, just like the rest of them, but she was smiling. 

“The Exalt is awake.”

Chrom’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, he raced forward, feeling Lissa just behind him. And, there she was. Emmeryn sat up in bed, she looked up in surprise when they suddenly burst in, then she was smiling. Awake and well. 

“Sorry to have made you worry,” she said, still smiling. Both Chrom and Lissa threw themselves into her open arms. All three of them crying, and laughing. 

Chrom could feel Emmeryn kiss the top of his head. She stroked their hair gently, murmuring softly to them. “I’m all right, everything is okay now. Don’t cry my dears, don’t cry.”

Chrom couldn’t remember the last time he _had_ cried. He must have been quite young, but now he couldn’t seem to stop. Some of it must be due to exhaustion, because he was shaking too. 

The three of them were left alone after the healers made their way out, reassured that Emmeryn was well again. Distantly Chrom registered Robin’s voice during all the commotion, but by the time he looked around the room, everyone else was gone. That was just as well. As the three siblings all settled in to sleep pressed together, after weak protests from Emmeryn who clearly wanted them to stay, Chrom remembered that unthinking kiss. Caught up in the euphoria of the moment it was quite possible that Chrom might kiss him again, and this time not on the cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I'll ever write anything that matches the wit and humour of Lissa and Chrom's exchange when Marth saves Lissa. "He was kind of dreamy!" "And, you're kind of dreaming!" Lmao, damn Chrom, let a girl live. 
> 
> This is the end of part one! I'm not breaking this fic down into two separate things, but if this were a book it would definitely be in two parts, and next chapter starts part two! I still have a little ways to go, I hope you bear with me!! Thanks very much for all your support, I hope you like the rest!!! ^^


	8. Cold Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it really been a month since I last updated?? Maybe that's my new normal tbh. ^^;
> 
> Please enjoy chapter 8!

Chrom woke slowly the next morning. He had a disorienting moment of not understanding why it felt like he was not alone in his own bed. He opened his eyes, feeling the sting of tiredness just behind them, and suddenly remembered exactly why he wasn’t alone.

He looked at his older sister’s sleeping face and felt again all the overwhelming emotions he had experienced the day before. Chrom almost wanted to shake Emmeryn awake, just to reassure himself that she would indeed open her eyes. He resisted the urge and instead tried to get up. 

As soon as he shifted just a little however, Chrom realized he was balanced very precariously on the edge of his bed. Carefully he lifted his head, then he saw why. Lissa was sleeping on the other side of Emmeryn, and she must have slowly pushed them toward Chrom’s side of the bed over the course of the night, because at her back was more than half the bed. 

Very carefully Chrom eased his way out of the bed, and got up. He stood there for a moment looking at his family and tried to let himself let go of that impending sense of doom that had haunted him the day before. He took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. 

Just then a knock sounded on his door. A moment later, just as Chrom was making to answer it, the door opened. It was the head healer, she nodded to him in greeting, and spoke softly when she said, “Good morning, Your Highness.” Chrom returned the greeting and the healer continued, “Is the Exalt still sleeping? I’m afraid I’ll have to wake her then, excuse me, my Prince.” 

She walked past Chrom, and he followed her back into his own bedroom. 

Quietly she went to Emmeryn, and very gently shook her awake. It was with more than a little relief that Chrom watched his sister open her eyes. 

Emmeryn blinked at them, and then smiled. She looked tired, but otherwise fine. 

“Good morning,” Emmeryn said, voice a little raspy. Emmeryn cleared her throat, and her smile turned apologetic. “I’ve slept in, haven’t I?”

Chrom laughed a little, and the healer smiled fondly at Emmeryn. “Oh, I think after the day you had no one will begrudge you some sleep, Exalt.”

Emmeryn was sitting up now, and Lissa began to wake. “Well, sleeping is apparently all I’ve been doing for quite a while.” She made to get up, but the healer held up her hands forestalling Emmeryn. 

“I’m ordering bedrest, Your Majesty. For the next two days.”

“Two days!” Emmeryn exclaimed. Chrom couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her look like that, no one had told Emmeryn to stay in her room in years. “But, I feel perfectly fine!” She argued, “Really, Marta, bedrest is entirely unnecessary!”

Marta would not budge however, and Emmeryn gave in with less grace than Chrom had ever seen her concede anything. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember anyone ever fussing over her as if she were a child, the way Marta was doing now. Even their father had only ever treated Emmeryn as if she were a small adult, sometimes Chrom forgot how quickly she had had to grow up. 

After that Emmeryn was moved back to her own chambers, which she was carried to on a stretcher, and she protested. The guards who carried her looked reluctant to do anything Emmeryn objected to, but Chrom, Lissa, and Marta all insisted, and in the end Emmeryn’s guard wanted her to be well more than they wanted to obey her in that moment. 

Chrom understood his sister’s desire to take her role up once again, to want to do the work with her own hands, but he also thought this would be good for her. When had there been an opportunity for Emmeryn to be the one cared for since their father had died? Chrom left Emmeryn in her own room, she was almost pouting at having to stay there, and it was like seeing an older version of Lissa. He smiled at her, “Don’t you trust me to take care of things, Emm?”

“Of course I trust you, Chrom!” By now food had been sent up for her, all of Emmeryn’s favourites in large quantities filled trays that sat on her spacious bed. “I trust both of you,” she added, looking at Lissa who was helping herself to a pastry. “But, it’s my responsibility to oversee the well being of our people. I’m the one who’s meant to guard them from harm, it’s not fair that you take on that burden when I’m perfectly capable.”

“It’s our responsibility too.” It was Lissa who replied. She looked serious for once. “We’re all protectors of Ylisse, Emm, it doesn’t all fall on you.”

“See?” Said Chrom, picking an apple off her tray, “Even Lissa is being sensible.”

Lissa stuck her tongue out at him. 

Emmeryn looked between them, and then smiled a little, she looked fond and apologetic. “Yes,” she said finally. “I suppose you’re right. I just,” she sighed and leaned back on the pillows piled behind her, “I want to do what I can for all of you.”

“We know,” replied Chrom, gently. “We feel the same way.”

The three siblings smiled at each other. Emmeryn sighed again and picked up a cup of tea. “Well,” she said, “At least send some paper work my way then. I may not be able to leave my bedchamber, but I can get some things done from here.”

  
  
  


By the time Chrom had washed up and gotten ready for the day, it was time for lunch. His stomach grumbled loudly, and he made his way to the mess hall. He found the Shepherds, Robin, and Isabela already there when he arrived. Robin spotted him first, he waved, and soon they were all calling out to him. Chrom smiled, and went to get some food before joining them. Isabela moved to sit on the other side of Robin so Chrom could sit next to him instead. When Chrom caught her eye, she winked. 

“How are you feeling?” Robin asked, when Chrom had seated himself. 

Chrom frowned at him, “What do you mean? I’m fine. Tired, but fine.”

Robin tilted his head slightly to the side. “You went through something very traumatic yesterday, all three of you. It wouldn’t be strange if you weren’t fine.”

Surprised, Chrom only looked at Robin for a moment. Maybe he was right. This tension he couldn’t seem to shake all morning wasn’t normal, it was like he was still holding his breath for the next blow to fall. Chrom opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t know what to say. 

Robin placed a gentle hand on his arm, quietly he said, “If you’d like to talk, then I’d like to listen.” He smiled a little, and Chrom felt his heart squeeze, a sudden well of emotion rose in his throat. That surprised him too, he hadn’t thought anything was wrong with him until someone showed him genuine concern. 

The Shepherds had been talking amongst themselves during this exchange, but then suddenly Sully called out to him. “Chrom!” She said, startling both young men, “We’re going back into the city after lunch to help with the rebuilding. Hurry and eat, you’ve already missed the morning work.”

“Sully,” Kellam chided, “You can’t order the Prince around.” 

Sully turned to Kellam who was sitting at her immediate right, “Kellam? When did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time!”

Chrom did as he was bid, he ate quickly and joined his friends. As they walked into the city Isabela caught his arm. She let the others walk ahead of them slightly and then said quietly, “Chrom, I thought you’d want an update with the prisoners.” Chrom nodded, feeling the tension in his shoulders tighten. “They haven’t spoken since being placed in their cells, and your guard, Fredrick, he said no interrogation was to proceed without your presence, so they await your pleasure.” 

Chrom exhaled, “Thank you for keeping me informed. I -” He paused. He dreaded talking to the prisoners, despite the fact that he was burning with questions. “When we return in the evening, then I’ll see them.”

Isabela nodded. They continued to walk. After a moment she spoke again, lightly this time. “So. Robin.” She said.

Immediately Chrom felt himself blush. It was a combination of the fact of Isabela talking to him about Robin, and the tone of voice she said his name in. She grinned when she saw his expression. 

“You know,” Isabela said, “If you didn’t have that look on your face I might have fought him for you.”

It took him a moment to understand what she meant. “Isabela,” Chrom began. He didn’t know what else to say however, it had never occurred to him that she might still be interested in him. They had been just friends for years now. 

She shook her head. “It’s fine, and anyway, I like him. He makes you look like that,” She pointed into his face, and Chrom felt his cheeks warm again. Isabela laughed. “I’m happy for you, invite me to the wedding.”

Chrom laughed a little awkwardly and looked away at that. He wished he could tell her that he would. 

Arriving in the city they were greeted right away by citizens inquiring over Emmeryn’s health. Chrom assured them that she was well, and everyone he spoke to expressed their relief and gladness. The Shepherds worked hard, and already they had made a great deal of progress.

Chrom worked with half his mind on what he was doing, the other half tried to think about what he would say to Emmeryn’s would-be assassins. He wanted to be logical, reasonable, but it worried him how  _ angry  _ he was. He hadn’t recognized the emotion as anger until Isabela spoke to him, but Chrom was furious. His older sister, half of the only family he had left, had almost been taken from him, from this country, and he wasn’t sure any reason given would make any kind of sense to him. Emmeryn would have the ability to continue to be compassionate even with those who had tried to kill her, but Chrom didn’t think he was strong enough for that, and if he wasn’t, what did that leave him with? 

“Chrom.” 

He turned at the sound of his name, it was Robin. He smiled at Chrom as he came over, Robin was holding cups, and he offered one to Chrom, which he took gratefully. They were working on rebuilding the frame of one of the stores. It had burned beyond repair, and the best thing to do was to knock down the rest of it and start again from scratch. During his time as a Shepherd Chrom had picked up all kinds of skills, and the basics of building was one of them. 

They both took a long drink before saying anything. 

“Did you sleep enough?” Robin asked, almost tentatively, “You look tired.”

Chrom took another drink, finishing the water to avoid answering right away. “I don’t think I did,” he said, looking at the cup he held in both hands now. 

He could feel Robin hesitate. Chrom knew that Robin could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t know how to phrase what was bothering him. And, in fact, it wasn’t just one thing, and that was part of the problem. Robin himself was also part of what was troubling him. 

“If you need anything,” Robin started to say, but Chrom shook his head. 

“I -- Thank you for offering, but there’s not really anything anyone can help me with.” He paused and then added. “Thank you for yesterday, you were -- thank you.”

“Of course.” Robin said. For a moment he looked as if he wanted to say something else, Chrom could feel him hesitate again. He looked at Chrom with soft brown eyes that made him want to pull Robin into his arms and let his worries melt away in his warmth. He didn’t, of course, he was already confusing fiction and reality. Chrom was fairly sure they must be friends, though, after yesterday, after Chrom had been hurt and vulnerable, Robin had managed to lodge himself more firmly in his heart. And, now he couldn’t help but be a little wary of him, as much as he wanted to open himself up to Robin again. Chrom was still hurt and vulnerable, and the reality of Robin’s departure, and the nature of their relationship was finally starting to sink in. He had accepted Robin’s proposal knowing their time together was limited, but it hadn’t quite seemed real to him, even as he played along. Now, faced with the end of their quest, and all the feelings welling in his heart, Chrom properly understood why Robin had stressed there be nothing romantic between them. 

He really was an idiot.

Chrom extended his hand for Robin’s cup, which he gave Chrom. “I’ll take these back,” he said, and felt Robin’s gaze follow him as he walked away. 

*

Robin felt as if he had been cheated of some kind of prize. It seemed as if he should feel elated, triumphant, but all he felt was a vague sense of unease and a feeling like somehow he had misstepped. 

Emmeryn was well, they had caught her attackers, and part of what Robin had come here to do had been accomplished, so why did it feel almost as if he had lost something?

They were back in the palace now. Dinner was simple but good, most of the palace’s extra stores had gone to the city, and so there was nothing overly complicated to eat, not like Robin had seen since coming here. 

The Shepherds dined together, as they seemed to always do when they could, and Robin sat with them, having been seamlessly adopted into their ranks almost immediately. They all seemed to be taking the turn of events much better than he was, they all appeared optimistic and hopeful, the way Robin thought he too would feel at this point. 

His eyes slid involuntarily over to Chrom who was eating quietly across from him. 

Robin’s heart gave a little tug at the sight of him. There was obviously something troubling him, but he wouldn’t share what it was with Robin. When Robin had approached him in the village, he had been sure Chrom would confide in him, in all the time he had known him, Robin had found Chrom to be open and honest, and he hadn’t realized how much he had been taking that for granted. He thought Chrom would simply tell him what was wrong, and then Robin could endeavour to help him, or at least comfort him, but he hadn’t been able to do either, and that made him feel restless. 

Lost in thought Robin didn’t immediately notice the guard who came to speak quietly to Chrom and Lissa, who were seated next to each other. They both suddenly looked very serious, nodded, and began to stand up. Robin suspected he knew what was happening, and felt his stomach clench. He had hoped Chrom would ask him to come when he spoke to the prisoners, but it didn’t seem as though that would be the case. Again, Robin felt his heart squeeze painfully, without realizing it Robin had come to rely on a closeness between them that he wasn’t sure how he had lost. He wanted to think it was best like this, with some distance, but that didn’t stop the hurt he felt at seeing Chrom turn from the table. 

Robin looked back down at his plate. He had suddenly lost his appetite. 

“Robin.”

He looked up. It wasn’t Chrom who had called him, but Lissa. 

“Are you finished? Would you join us?”

Surprised, Robin said, “I thought it would just be family.”

Lissa gave him a funny look, like she thought he was being particularly dense. “Yes, that’s why I’m asking you to come.”

It was absurd how much those words affected him. Robin nodded wordlessly and hastily got up. As they walked out of the mess hall he saw Isabela standing in the corridor, just outside the entrance, obviously waiting for them. She said something quietly to Chrom who gave her a small smile, Robin looked away from them. 

“How is the Exalt?” Robin asked as they made their way down to the holding cells.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Lissa said, mostly back to her usual cheery tone. “She’s annoyed she has to stay in bed for another day though, and with healers monitoring her.” Lissa laughed a little, “When she’s grumpy like that she looks like Chrom,” Lissa frowned in an exaggerated way, her forehead creasing between her eyebrows, and pointed at her face, “They look exactly the same!”

Robin smiled a little too, “I’m glad she’s well. I didn’t want to disturb her, but I will visit tomorrow, if that’s all right.”

“Of course!” Lissa said right away. “She asked about you, Emm says she wants to personally thank you for all your help. Though, I’m sure Chrom will thank you enough for all of us,” she added slyly. 

Robin blushed, and sputtered, “W-what?”

Lissa laughed

They arrived at the doors that led to the cells, and though Lissa’s conversation had lifted the mood, Robin felt it tamp back down as they were faced with the imminent situation. No one spoke as the guards unlocked the doors for them, and they descended into the dungeons. 

Robin felt the temperature noticeably drop as they made their way down. He shivered, and wished he had brought his cloak, it somehow felt colder here than it did outside. 

Chrom led the way, and after a moment they passed another guarded entrance. The soldier stationed there saluted, and opened the door for them. He saw guards stationed at the doors of four different cells, Fredrick turned to look at them as they made their way over. Fredrick nodded to them in greeting. 

All the soldiers here were dressed in furs, and when Robin exhaled his breath misted. Looking in the cells he saw that the prisoners had also been given furs, there were two of them in each cell, and they were huddled together under their blankets when Robin’s small party arrived. 

“Have they said anything?” Chrom asked.

“Only asked for a fire, my Lord,” Fredrick replied. 

Chrom’s jaw clenched. Robin understood why right away. Of course they would ask for fire down here, for warmth, but it did seem exceedingly dangerous to give them any after what they had all done. Some of Isabela’s guards were down here as well, and one of them handed her a heavy fur cloak, which she immediately put on. Lissa and Chrom seemed relatively unaffected by the cold. 

“I wish to ask you a few questions,” Chrom said, turning to the cell on his left. “I’d like to speak to you two in particular.”

In the cell was the man who seemed to be the troop’s leader, and Priscilla. The guards by their cell moved back so Chrom could face them better. Both captives looked at him. There was silence for a while. No one said anything, Lissa had gone to stand just behind Chrom, and still the silence stretched on. 

When it seemed as if Chrom would say something more, the man finally spoke. “And what answers would satisfy you, Your Highness?”

Chrom frowned at the man. “Who sent you, and why.”

The man continued to look at Chrom for another moment. Then, he stood. Everyone who was not in a cell shifted as well, tensed as if they expected the man to attempt an attack. Nothing about his posture suggested aggression however, and Robin watched warily as he walked slowly closer to his cell door. 

“I think you know precisely who and why. And,that it would make no difference to give you any name but the one you want, or the motive you expect. So, why bother with these formalities, young Prince? If you are to have us executed, get on with it.”

Chrom’s expression turned from surprise to anger. He had to visibly rein himself in. He took a breath and exhaled quietly. “Is that what you want?”

“I’ve already said --”

“I’m not speaking to you,” Chrom broke in firmly, “Priscilla, is that what you want?”

The young woman looked at him. Her eyes were red rimmed and swollen, her face was tear stained, she looked as if she had not slept in days. 

“I don’t think it is,” Chrom said after a moment of silence. “I don’t think you volunteered for this, nor do you wish me or my family harm. So, tell me what you do want, and I’ll do what I can to help.”

“Don’t waste your time --” 

The man tried again, but this time it was Fredrick who interrupted him in a flat immoveable tone. “Silence.”

Priscilla shook under her furs, and stared hard at her lap. 

Suddenly the man slammed his hand, open palm, against the bars of his cell. The sound echoed around the stone walls. “She wants nothing from you, none of us do. We want nothing you can give us, anyway. What we want is to see your Exalt buried ten feet underground, and all of you along with her. We wanted to see her struggle for her last breath as the poison slowly killed her --” 

The look on Chrom’s face as the man spoke was frightening. Robin was moving before he could think. He went to the cell, stepping in front of Chrom, as if he could block him from this verbal assault, and said loudly over the man, “I  _ know  _ that’s not what you want, Priscilla!” The man continued to speak, shouting now, and Robin attempted to shout over him, his fists were clenched tightly, and Robin was shaking. The guards were coming back now, withdrawing keys, obviously intent on subduing the man. “You joined the palace guards as soon as you could! Everyone who saw you could tell how proud you were to be here, to serve the Exalt! Your friends all know you’re a good person, they all know how much you care about your people! This isn’t what you want, or you wouldn’t have spent the night crying for it! Tell us, Priscilla, please, we can help!”

The clang of the metal as the gate swung open drowned out all other sound as the guards came in and grabbed the man, pinning him against a wall of the cell, and gagged him. Priscilla’s shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. 

Robin turned to Chrom who was looking at him with wide eyes. “Take her out of here. Keep her under guard, but bring her somewhere else. She wants to help us, I know she does, Chrom, please.”

Chrom continued to stare at him for another moment, and then he nodded. “Do as Robin says, move Priscilla into the East wing, four guards to her night and day.” He said as he unclasped the cape that habitually adorned his clothing, speaking to the guards, but not looking away from Robin. He draped the cape over Robin’s shoulders, and ran his hands up and down Robin’s upper arms. Quietly, gently, Chrom said, “Here, you’re shaking.”

It occurred to Robin now that it wasn’t just anger he was shaking from. He felt that familiar tug at his heart from the soft way Chrom spoke to him, and the strong hands that still lingered on his shoulders. 

Pulling the cape more tightly around him, Robin said, “Thank you.”

They looked at each other. Robin remembered the way it felt to be folded into Chrom’s embrace. 

The moment passed when the guards came through ushering Priscilla out. She walked past them silently, with her head down. Chrom pushed gently at Robin’s back, prompting him to follow her out. 

Coming up out into one of the main corridors of the palace again Robin felt a bit better. He was still shivering slightly, but the temperature up in the rest of the palace was much warmer than what he had just been in. Chrom spoke to the guards instructing them on Priscilla’s care, and then came back. The rest of their party had come out as well, and when Chrom came back they all turned to look at him. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow.” Everyone nodded, and then Chrom added to Robin, “Will you join me for a moment?”

“Of course.”

Robin followed as Chrom made his way toward a more familiar part of the palace. They were heading to the library, Robin realized. Once there, Chrom went to a window seat where a soft blue blanket sat neatly folded in one corner, he picked it up and handed it to Robin, smiling a little. “You still haven’t warmed up have you?”

Taking the blanket and draping it too over his shoulders, Robin returned the small smile. “I’ve almost thawed out.” 

Chrom laughed on a breath, and then turned to the window. He sat and gestured for Robin to join him, which he did. After a moment that Chrom spent looking out the window and Robin spent shooting him looks, Chrom finally spoke again.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been -- strange today.”

Robin shook his head. “Please, you don’t need to apologize.”

Chrom sighed. He turned to look at Robin again. “I do. I’m your --” He hesitated for just a second, “friend,” he finished, like he had meant to say something else first. “And, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, for my family, and my country.” Chrom paused, and looked down at his hands, which he clenched into loose fits in his lap. “I suppose now that this is over, you’ll return home.”

Robin wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t this. Surprised, it took Robin a moment to reply. “You don’t need to thank me, really.” Robin said, knowing there was no more time, he had to ask Chrom for the other thing he was here for. “I’d like to stay, for a bit longer, if that’s all right.”

The look Chrom gave him made Robin’s insides twist.

“You want -- but why? I thought you said this was just --” Chrom broke off and instead gestured vaguely. 

It was hard to look at Chrom just then. Robin turned his own gaze to the window, it was a bit cloudy, but he could still see parts of the starry night sky. 

“For most of my life,” Robin started, tried to explain. “I’ve had someone trying to force my hand. After I was made heir, it was King Gangrel. But, before that it was my father, he used me as a pawn ever since my mother died, and I haven’t been able to do anything for myself since then.” That was the first time Robin had said it aloud, he had never really had anyone he could say it to. “What I want now is to be free of all this,” Robin gestured to encompass the entirety of the library, the palace, and grounds. “I want to live for myself, I don’t wish to be tied to anything or anyone that will mean compromising my freedom. When the Mad King is dethroned, I intend to refuse the crown, and renounce my claim as heir. That’s part of why I wanted your help to foil his plans.” Robin half wanted to look at Chrom just then, but he was almost scared to see his expression. He kept his gaze on the sky. 

“You asked me once if all I wanted from coming here was to save your sister, and help our people. I said yes.” Robin continued after a small pause. “I lied. There’s another reason I wanted to come here.” Now, finally, he looked into blue eyes he had become accustomed to constantly seeking out. “I wanted to ask for your help with something. I told you I think the Mad King was behind the death of my mother, I think I can find proof of that here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the happy ending of the last chapter cuz now it's time to get on the angst train. We've got pining and feelings of loss coming up! BUT, there will also be more fake dating stuff I'm super excited to get to!!! Two scenes in particular which I've written and written in my head a million times. I can't wait!
> 
> Again, I have a lot of sibling feelings. I don't think it's really possible to handle someone trying to hurt (kill!) your sibling with any kind of grace. FEA kinda glosses over what Chrom and Lissa must have been thinking and feeling after Emmeryn died, but I think it makes sense if they weren't just sad, but angry. It's just normal, so I thought Chrom would feel some of that now too, especially right after all the stress of nearly having to watch her die. 
> 
> Next chapter hopefully up eventually! Thanks so much for all your comments and kudos, I appreciate you all!! <333


	9. Things Unknown

There were two things it was getting increasingly more difficult for Robin to deny. The first wasn’t so hard to accept, though he fought it as a matter of course. 

It was the fact that he was enjoying his time in Ylisse. Despite the chaos, the tension, the plots, and schemes, he was content here. He had a measure of freedom in the palace he had never really experienced before. More than that, he had people he looked forward to seeing, to speaking and spending time with, and those experiences were being tied together with Ylisse as a place in his mind. 

The second was --

A firm knock on Robin’s door drew his attention away from his own musings. 

It was still fairly early in the morning, Robin had just finished getting ready and was about to make his way down for breakfast. 

Opening the door Robin found a young boy waiting for him, he bowed hastily at Robin and offered him a folded piece of parchment. “Your Highness.”

Robin took it thanking the boy, who hurried off as soon as he was dismissed. Closing the door and returning to his bedroom Robin opened the note. It was brief:

_ Robin, _

_ My apologies, but my sisters and I will not be joining you for breakfast. _

_ When we finish however, we will send for you. If you are agreeable, we would ask that you join us when we speak to Priscilla again. _

_ -Chrom _

Robin looked at the sparse note for a moment longer. He sat on the edge of his bed, and when he finally realized he would get nothing more from this brief missive, he sighed and let himself fall backward onto his bed. Was Chrom in a rush, or was he being deliberately distant? Or, had Robin become too used to his solicitousness? Chrom was the type of person to come and speak to him directly, and Robin had taken that as a given. 

Maybe it didn’t mean anything, and Robin was overthinking something that was completely inconsequential. 

This brought Robin to the second thing he was having trouble denying, and that was Chrom.

Robin felt as though he were performing a balancing act. One misstep and he would surely fall. This thing with Chrom, he thought the moment he gave it a name, looked it directly in the eye, was the moment he would fall. Robin covered his eyes with his arm and tried not to feel the emotions that flooded his heart just thinking about it. 

He took a deep breath, and after a short moment slowly sat back up. Absentmindedly he ran his fingers through his hair and forced his mind back to the matters at hand. Chrom had asked him to join him in his interrogation of Priscilla, he needed to focus on that. Robin had already made inquiries and taken steps to resolve that matter, and now that he had more information on Priscilla, he hoped it could finally be put to rest. The sooner they tied up the loose ends of this matter, the sooner Robin could focus on the main reason he had come here. 

  
  
  
  


They had moved Priscilla to an unused wing of the palace. It was traditionally used for the extended family of the Exalt or a member of the royal family. But, since none of them had any other family, whether by blood or by marriage, currently it wasn’t in use. Even if Robin married into their family it would remain unused, as his father would never accept lodgings in the palace. 

Following just behind one of the knights who had come to fetch Robin just as he was finishing breakfast, Robin almost tripped on his own feet when he realized what he had just been thinking. Of course, it was ridiculous to think about that marriage even in the hypothetical, Robin couldn’t marry Chrom. 

“Right through here, Your Highness.”

The knight’s voice brought Robin sharply back to reality. The door he indicated had two guards stationed on either side of it. 

“Is the Prince already inside?” 

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Robin nodded. “Thank you.” 

The knight bowed, and left him. Robin braced himself, and then made for the door. 

The room was not what he was expecting. Robin had imagined a room similar to his own, instead he found himself standing in what was obviously a nursery. He could see the logic behind this decision however, there was no sitting room or study included in these quarters, just one open space, and a door to what Robin assumed was a bathing room. A seemingly long unused crib had been pushed into a corner, there was a mattress on the floor serving as a bed, and in the opposite corner of the crib were children’s toys. 

There were a number of people inside the room already. Chrom, Lissa, Fredrick, Isabela, two guards Chrom had assigned to Priscilla, Isabela’s own personal guard, and of course, Priscilla. They all looked at Robin when he entered, none of them smiled in greeting, and Robin noted the heavy atmosphere of the room. Priscilla sat against the far wall under a window, she was the only person who hadn’t looked at him when he entered. She looked young and vulnerable with her knees drawn up and her arms around her legs. And, she _ was _ rather young, at nineteen she was only a year younger than Chrom, and three years younger than Robin. 

While she wasn’t shaking with cold anymore, she looked just as worn as she had the day before. The dark circles under her eyes were still pronounced, her lips looked chapped and bitten, and her hair hung limply over her shoulder in a braid Robin suspected her hair had been in for days now. He remembered speaking with Priscilla weeks before with Chrom, the bright young woman he had talked to then might have been another person entirely at this point. 

She was a wreck, and Robin was positive she had been manipulated. 

“Thank you for joining us,” Chrom said, unsmiling. 

Robin nodded, “Of course.”

There was a tense pause, and then they all turned their attention once more to Priscilla, who sat unmoving with her head down. 

“Whatever decision you reach about her fate, Chrom,” Isabela said, breaking the silence, “you have the Khans’s support.” 

Chrom didn’t look away from Priscilla, but he nodded his head once in acknowledgement. 

“Then, shall we begin?”

“Wait.”

They all turned to look at Robin once more. He was glad he was used to having the undivided attention of others when serving as a tactician, or the force of so many gazes might have intimidated him. As it was Robin had to square his shoulders, he looked at Chrom when he said, “I’d like to speak to Priscilla alone.” 

There was a beat of silence, and then everyone spoke at once. Protests and questions were thrown at Robin all at the same time and Robin had to raise his voice over the noise. 

“Please! Chrom, I’m asking you, please!”

Chrom, more serious than Robin had yet seen him raised his hand for silence, the gesture reminding Robin rather forcibly of the fact that he had been born a Prince, and the voices stopped at once. 

Looking back at Robin Chrom said, “No.” Robin felt his stomach sink. “I will stay with you.”

Relieved, Robin let his shoulders drop once more. “Yes, thank you.” 

Turning to the rest of their party Chrom gestured to the door. “Give us the room for a moment.” They all left reluctantly.

“I will wait outside until you have finished, my Lord,” Fredrick said, pausing by Chrom as he made to leave. He shot Robin a strange look, and then added, “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

Robin knew Fredrick had been suspicious of him, and he had thought that with the Exalt saved he would no longer be suspect, but it seemed that might not be the case afterall. If Robin had the time and the attention for it right now, he would probably lament the fact that Fredrick was so wary of him, though he didn’t begrudge him that, Robin did have the blood of the enemy running through his veins. 

When the door closed behind Fredrick the room was left eerily quiet. Even without the presence of so many tense bodies, the atmosphere of the room had not lightened. Robin glanced at Chrom, noted the grim set of his mouth and realized it was Chrom’s influence. Robin had witnessed this effect before, but had only ever seen it happen in a positive light. Chrom could brighten any room with his buoyant mood, or his generous smile, now he was bringing it so far down the room almost felt colder for it. 

Robin had the impulse to touch him, calm him down somehow, but he didn’t think Chrom would let him do anything like that right now, nor did Robin know that anything he did would work at the moment. So, instead, he turned back to Priscilla. 

Walking slowly forward he made his way over to her. She didn’t stir, the only sign that she was even still alive was the rise and fall of her back that showed she was breathing. She seemed so fragile, he thought the pressure of all those eyes on her was too much, this way felt kinder, gentler on the young woman who seemed close to breaking.

Robin knelt in front of her, careful to give her space, and sat back on his heels. He folded his hands on his lap, as if he were attending a tea ceremony in Valm. 

“Priscilla,” Robin said quietly. When she didn’t respond, Robin said her name again, with the same result. He bit his lip briefly and then decided to continue. “Very well, Priscilla, you don’t need to speak yet, but I’d like you to listen to me.” He could feel Chrom’s presence at his back, he had stepped a few paces closer. “I have a theory about what’s happening, and I’d like it if you could confirm for me that it’s correct.”

He paused, took a breath, and went on. “When I first learned of the plot against the Exalt of Ylisse, I thought I would need to look for an agent of Gangrel. Someone who had sided with Gangrel against the Exalt. But, when I came here, when I met the Exalt, and when I saw the way her people loved her, I knew that couldn’t be right.

“I began to suspect that not only was this person not on Gangrel’s side, but that they must have been coerced somehow, blackmailed.” Robin didn’t miss the way Priscilla’s grip on her legs tightened when he said ‘blackmailed.’ “There were certain people I thought I could safely rule out, those who had never left Ylistol, or who had grown up in the service of the Exalt, I thought most likely not. So, I looked more closely at those who joined later, who served on border patrols for extended periods of time. When I spoke with you, Priscilla, you told me you served on the border for a year.” Robin paused, he watched Priscilla intently as he spoke, her grip on her own legs was turning her knuckles white. 

Before he could speak again, Robin felt Chrom move. Without meaning to, Robin turned to look at him. He had come to stand beside Robin, and then slowly sat down too. He didn’t look away from Priscilla, so Robin turned back to her too and continued. 

“The night Emmeryn was attacked, while we waited for a cure from Ferox I sent word to a contact in Plegia.” Now, finally, Chrom turned to look at him, but this time it was Robin who wouldn’t return his look. “I asked them about you. They couldn’t tell me much more than I already knew, that you had entered the Exalt’s service at fifteen, your time on the border, your two younger siblings,” here Robin paused again, and then went on gently. “The one thing I did learn was about your mother.”

Priscilla’s head snapped up. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, she looked on the verge of tears. 

“She’s been sick, hasn’t she?” Robin asked, softly. 

Priscilla said nothing, but her expression was answer enough. 

“I learned that she was in the care of a retired royal healer, and had been for some time, going back to when you served on the border. Priscilla, I think you cooperated with Gangrel because he had your mother, because he promised to care for her. I think he may have threatened not just the two of you, but your siblings as well.”

Now Priscilla did cry. She closed her eyes as tears fell freely down her cheeks. 

“Priscilla,” Robin started, he hesitated, and then said, as gently as he could. “I’ve been informed that your mother passed away last night.” 

“No,” Priscilla whispered through her tears, the first thing Robin had heard her say since the night Emmeryn had been poisoned. “No, he said -- he told me -- “ Her voice broke.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said, he didn’t know what else to say. 

Priscilla pressed her forehead to her knees and cried. Her shoulders shook with the strength of her sobs, Robin and Chrom sat in silence as the young knight mourned her mother. They exchanged a look, but neither of them said anything, they simply waited. 

It was some time until Priscilla calmed, she lifted her head to wipe at her face, though fresh tears wet it once again. Robin pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her, Chrom got up and brought her a glass of water. She took them both with a hiccuped, “Thank you,” and when she had finished the water, Chrom finally spoke to her. 

“When I thought about what could have happened to my sister --” Chrom broke off, shook his head, and then continued, “It made it difficult for me to think properly about the surrounding circumstances.” Chrom sighed, Robin saw some of the tension, the hardness in his expression that had been with him for days, slowly melt away. He looked at Priscilla with gentleness, and sympathy. “Emmeryn could have been harmed, or killed, but she wasn’t, and I believe you didn’t want either of those things.” 

Priscilla kept her eyes down, Robin had the impression she couldn’t bring herself to meet Chrom’s gaze. 

“You are just as much of a victim as she was, as we all are, to Gangrel. I don’t blame you for what you did, we all do what we can for the people we love.” 

More tears fell from her eyes. It seemed to Robin like the sympathy and understanding they were showing Priscilla hurt her, as if she had braced for anger or hatred, and found herself defenseless against kindness. 

“I’ve had guards escort your siblings to the palace,” Robin said, and now Priscilla did look up at him, surprised. “As guests,” he hastily added after seeing the look on her face. “Since Gangrel’s plan failed, I thought it would ease your mind to know they are safe, and cared for, we won’t let anything happen to them.”

She wiped her eyes with Robin’s handkerchief and swallowed. “Thank you,” Priscilla said, “And, you’re right about everything.” Robin nodded, unsurprised. “But, I think you should know,” Priscilla met Robin’s gaze, “Gangrel and his witch, from the way they talked about you, I think they wanted you to marry the Prince.”

Robin felt Chrom’s eyes on him, but he nodded again. From Gangrel’s reaction to Robin’s betrothal, this wasn’t exactly unexpected, what it was was unnerving. 

“Thank you for telling us,” Robin said.

*

Once Emmeryn was off bedrest she took up her position with vigor. She spoke to Priscilla personally, with only Chrom and Fredrick for protection, to attempt to preserve her dignity, the same way Robin had done, and talking to Priscilla this time was just as hard. She was a wreck with Emmeryn, she burst into tears at the sight of her, and Chrom watched as Emmeryn gently stroked her hair and murmured soothingly to her until she could speak. 

Priscilla wasn’t going to be charged with anything, although she would no longer hold her rank. That news seemed to hit her like a blow, and Chrom could imagine what that would be like, an obvious fighter like Priscilla, someone who had worked hard for her position would feel that demotion like the punishment it was. Though, Emmeryn had meant it more for Priscilla’s sake, to take that burden from her. 

The Feroxi assassins they could get nothing from. After weeks of attempted interrogation and negotiation, they got absolutely nothing, not even their names. Emmeryn absolutely forbade any kind of torture, which, Chrom thought, might not have worked anyway. Isabela stayed in Ylisse while they deliberated on the troop’s fate.

“Give them to Ferox,” Isabela suggested one evening after she and Chrom left the cells again, as unsuccessful as every other time. 

“Emmeryn doesn’t want them killed or tortured.” Chrom replied automatically. 

“No,” Isabela waved this away, they had had this conversation before. “That’s not what I’m proposing. There are creatures that plague the mountain ranges in Ferox. We don’t get many volunteers to fight them, so give the prisoners to us and they may serve their country honourably.”

“That suggestion is tantamount to death.” He replied as they walked down the torchlit corridor that led to Isabela’s chambers, it was well into the night now.

“Any sentence we pass on them will be harsh, execution or imprisonment, neither of these benefit anyone. At least this way they provide a service, and they save lives instead of taking them.”

Chrom sighed, “I will tell Emmeryn, but I wouldn’t expect a favourable response.”

Isabela shrugged. “It’s her choice, of course, but she should be aware of all her options.” They were at Isabela’s door now. She paused and turned to Chrom. “How have you and Prince Robin been?”

Chrom looked away from her, he ran a hand through his hair, and couldn’t stop himself from sighing again, much more deeply. “The same,” he said, “Fine.”

“‘Fine,’ hmm?” Isabela said, in a way that seemed both amused and disbelieving. Chrom didn’t reply, just tugged on a strap of the cloak he wore. “Would you like to talk about it?” Isabela offered when Chrom continued to fidget. He hesitated, and Isabela made a sound that was almost like a laugh, she opened the door to her rooms and gestured him wordlessly in. Chrom hesitated for a second longer before inevitably giving in. 

He took a seat in Isabela’s sitting room, the couch by the fire was draped in soft silks Isabela had brought from Ferox. She offered him wine, which he accepted, “The last of the red, I’m afraid.” Isabela said, handing him a glass and sitting with her back against the armrest of the same couch Chrom sat in. He turned slightly as well so he could see her without getting a crick in his neck. 

They both took a sip of the wine, Isabela cradled the glass between both hands and held it in her lap. She looked at him expectantly, “Well?” She prompted. 

Chrom took his time taking another sip of the dry wine. “I don’t really know what to say.” He said at last, and that was true, he didn’t know how to talk about this thing with Robin. 

“There is a problem, isn’t there? Start with that.”

There _ was _ a problem, Chrom had romantic feelings for Robin, but they were unrequited, and he couldn’t just say that without revealing the whole scheme that had brought Robin into his life. He couldn’t tell Isabela that he had done the first thing Robin had warned him not to, he had fallen knowing -- _ knowing _\-- full well that this was a ruse, a means to an end. Chrom had made countless unadvisable decisions in the past, but this was the worst yet. Though, it didn’t feel that way, it was painful, but in a way that wasn’t entirely pain. It sounded ridiculous, but when Chrom thought of Robin, when his heart beat with all he felt, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Regardless of Robin’s feelings, Chrom couldn’t regret his own. What he felt hurt him, but the same way it hurt to stare at the sun, the sting didn’t take away from its beauty, or stop him from appreciating it. 

So, Chrom couldn’t tell Isabela the truth, exactly, but he could tell her something very close to it.

“I’m just -- I believe Robin does not feel the same way I do.”

Isabela looked at him in surprise, and Chrom took another drink for something to do. She didn’t reply right away, and Chrom tried not to squirm in the silence that followed his admission. 

“You think he does not love you?” Chrom both shied away from, and flushed at the word ‘love,’ he hadn’t dared use it himself. When he didn’t say anything or meet Isabela’s gaze he heard her scoff. “This is your problem?” She sighed, “Look, I don’t mean to diminish your confession or your feelings. I’m sure they are coming from a real place, but you are mad if you think he does not love you.” 

Chrom felt something in his stomach flutter, the heat in his cheeks intensified. He finally managed to look at Isabela, “I don’t know...” He began. 

Isabela waved a hand cutting him off. “I do. I have seen the looks, the way he lights up when he smiles at you, or when you smile at him. He does _not_ look at anyone else that way, Chrom. I would say the looks he gives you are exactly the same as the ones you give him.”

His heart squeezed painfully, something heavy and warm sat in Chrom’s chest. What he was feeling was hope, he realized. 

“It’s not -- he doesn’t --” Chrom broke off, unsure how to finish his weak protests. Isabela raised her perfectly arched eyebrows at him. 

“Is there something else? Because from what I can see it seems to me as if your problem is no problem at all. I spoke to Fredrick, and even he admitted that during the fight in Emmeryn’s chambers, the way Robin looked when he saw you were in danger, it was like his world was ending. He said Robin didn’t even appear as distressed when Emmeryn was poisoned; he still looked upset, don’t misunderstand, but it was not the same. The feeling behind that distress was not the same, you mean more to him than you think, Chrom.” 

He looked away again, he couldn’t handle looking into Isabela’s eyes when she spoke aloud the fondest wishes of his heart. And her eyes were almost like Robin’s, a shade darker maybe, but very similar. 

“You could always speak to him, you know.” Isabela said after a moment when Chrom didn’t reply. He had forgotten the wine in his hands, he took another sip and looked back up at his friend. “You could tell him of your feelings, I’m certain he would answer you in kind.” 

Chrom gave a small sigh, and then smiled. “You sound as if you’ve given advice on matters of the heart countless times.” 

Isabela grinned at him. “Oh yes, since I have been here especially, more times than should be necessary, I think.”

That surprised Chrom. “Who else has needed your wisdom?”

She shook her head and gave him a sly smile. “Oh no, my Prince, a lady never betrays a confidence. But, suffice it to say that I have done my service to the Crown this time around.” 

“Who? Lissa?” But, Isabela wouldn’t budge. Chrom continued to attempt to prod her for more information, but Isabela deflected or outright refused. 

  
  
  


Finally, weeks after the attempt on her life, Emmeryn agreed to send the Feroxi prisoners back to face the Khan’s justice. Chrom had talked to his sister about it many times, they went round and round in arguments with no new solutions, and finally, under the pressure of her council and the nobles of the land, Emmeryn sent them back. The alternative would have been life imprisoned in a country where they were hated for their crimes. Emmeryn had fought for another way, but in the end there seemed to be nothing, not even Robin, creative problem solver that he was, could come up with another suitable fate for them. So, before the first heavy snowfall, Isabela took the prisoners, and took her leave of Ylisse. 

It was properly cold now and snowing softly. The Crown had had various articles of winter attire commissioned for Robin, but it didn’t seem to keep him as warm as it did the royal family. They stood out in the courtyard now, Isabela and her party ready to depart, and Robin shivered beside Chrom. Robin had pulled the fur lined hood over his head, but Chrom could still see the tip of his cold reddened nose. He had the urge to open his cloak and pull Robin inside to warm him. 

“Farewell, my friend,” Isabela said, embracing Robin, whose hood fell back with the movement. At some point when Chrom wasn’t looking she and Robin had become close. He didn’t know how he had missed that, but one day he found them walking arm in arm together down the hall, and then bursting into laughter as they entered the mess hall. 

She turned to him now, and Chrom walked forward to hug her as well. He had to bend down to do it, Isabela wasn’t much taller than five feet, and she laughed a little in his ear while they embraced. “I forget sometimes how tall you are,” she said, and Chrom smiled. It had been some time since they had been of a similar height. “Take care of yourself, Chrom, and, remember what I told you. Speak to him.” Isabela said more quietly, and then she withdrew, and winked at him. “Don’t forget to write to me, I always love hearing about how right I am.” 

Chrom smiled despite himself, he shook his head, but he said, “I’ll be sure to write.” 

Most of the court had come out to bid Isabela and her party a farewell. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that they treat this as a normal send off, no one mentioned the prisoners, not until Emmeryn spoke just as Isabela mounted her horse. 

“Thank you for your service,” Emmeryn said. “Take care on your way back,” she glanced at the enclosed carriages that carried both prisoners and guards, “We won’t forget all that you’ve done for us, if ever the Khans should need anything from Ylisse, please let them know they need not hesitate to ask.” 

Isabela inclined her head graciously, “Thank you, Exalt. I’ll be sure to tell them that, though, really, it is always our pleasure to be of service to you.”

They smiled at each other, and at last, Isabela gave them one last wave, and the party made their way out. 

“Will they be all right in the snow?” Robin asked as the party left the courtyard. 

Chrom glanced at him, Robin had pulled his hood back up, and it obscured Chrom’s view of his expression. “It’s still light, this snow will not stick to the ground, and it will not persist. Soon though, it will be heavier, and colder, but by then they should be at the border to Ferox. Isabela has traveled in Ylisse at this time before, she knows how to take care of herself.”

Robin turned his head, the hood was deep, it made Robin look younger somehow, it reminded Chrom of when Lissa would take Emmeryn’s clothes and the fit would be obviously big for her. Robin was smiling a little, “I don’t doubt that she is very capable, I suppose I’m still simply unused to the snow.”

“Is this your first time seeing it?”

“No,” Robin put out a gloved hand to catch snowflakes as they fell. “I have seen it on mountain tops, but it was different.” He looked back at Chrom, “Does this really last for half the year?” He sounded worried suddenly. 

Chrom laughed, “No, maybe five months, at most.” The look Robin gave him made Chrom laugh again. “Let us go in then, I’m getting cold just by looking at you.”

“_That’s _ what is making you cold?”

Although Chrom had been the one to suggest they go in, when they started walking he unconsciously began to follow Robin’s lead, and he soon realized Robin was bringing them to his quarters. He took his hood off when they were inside, his pale hair was ruffled, but not unattractively, at least to Chrom, but he kept his gloves on until they reached his room. It was still early, and Chrom was about to excuse himself to see to his duties for the day when Robin spoke. 

“Do you have a moment?”

“Yes,” Chrom answered without hesitating. 

He followed Robin into his rooms and into the small study he had set up in the corner of his bedchamber. Robin took off his cloak and gloves and draped them over the armchair in the opposite corner to his desk and gestured that Chrom should do the same. Then he went over to his desk and began unfolding a map, Chrom watched as he weighed the corners down so it would stay open. 

“I wanted to wait until your sister’s safety was secured before I asked you for this favour,” Robin started, as he gestured to the map. Chrom came over as he spoke to look down at it, he recognized it right away, it was a detailed map of the Plegian-Ylissean border, near the Border Pass. “This is where my mother died,” Robin pointed to an expanse just south of the Border Pass. Chrom looked at him in surprise at this revelation, but Robin didn’t meet his gaze, he continued to look at the map. “I have read her notes on the plans she had for the battle that took place there, I have studied this map more times than I can count, but I could never make sense of how she lost.” 

The map was marked up, heavily annotated in the margins. Chrom had seen Robin’s own handwriting and was familiar enough with it to recognize the writing as not his own, it was Robin’s mother’s, he realized. Robin set up coloured markers on the map, and then took out a notebook from the drawer of his desk. The notebook, like the map, was old and worn, and when Chrom saw the pages, he realized the same hand that had written on the map had written in those pages. Robin opened to a sketch of the map they were looking at, and he set the notebook down beside the markers. “This is exactly as she planned it, from the reports I read about this battle, this formation, these numbers, there was no way they could have lost, but the reports talk about my mother’s soldiers being overwhelmed, and it’s never clear _ how _.” Robin was clearly agitated, Chrom had never seen him like that before. 

Chrom frowned down at the map, he didn’t know how he could help, if Robin who had years of tactical experience couldn’t puzzle it out, he wasn’t sure how he could make a difference. 

“I thought,” Robin continued, “That I might be able to visit this place. Maybe if I saw the battlefield, though I don’t know what I could find in this flat empty place -- there is a fort nearby as well, perhaps they have reports of the battle that differ from my own.” Robin finally turned to look at him, his expression wasn’t hopeful. “It is flimsy at best, but, I overheard Gangrel speak to Aversa about this battle once before, I couldn’t hear the whole conversation, but something he said made it sound as if he was somehow responsible. As if the failure here was planned,” Robin shook his head, “Nothing I found in Plegia has given me anything, I thought, perhaps here…” 

Chrom nodded, he looked back at the map and looked over the battlefield, and then frowned. He pushed the markers away, ignoring Robin’s protests. He ran his fingers over the map, his mind racing. 

“Do you have any other maps of the border?”

Obviously confused, Robin looked at him for a moment before nodding. He took rolled up maps from a watertight container and spread them out one at a time. The first was less detailed, and smaller than the other, but it still showed major landmarks and notable natural formations. Robin showed him another map, even more detailed than the first, this one too was heavily marked, and showed the border exclusively, this one deepened Chrom’s suspicions. 

“Wait here a moment,” Chrom left, knowing he was leaving Robin baffled, but he didn’t want to say anything until he was absolutely sure. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but when Robin had mentioned that the land was relatively flat and unobstructed, it had struck a chord in his memory.

He half ran back to his own room, luckily he had some maps there that he had never gotten around to returning to the library, not as detailed as the ones Robin was working with, but ones he had learned strategy and history from when he was younger. He hastily unfolded them until he found the most detailed version and scanned the Plegian-Ylissean border. Chrom felt a prickle of heat along his spine when he saw that he had been right, it was both satisfying and ominous. He hurried back to Robin’s rooms, careful to close and lock the door behind him. 

“Chrom,” Robin said when he rushed back in. “What --” 

Chrom hastily moved the markers and weights so he could set his own map down, and then pointed at the patch of land that looked small and inoffensive just south of the Border Pass. “This,” Chrom said indicating small symbols on the map. “You said there wasn’t much there, that it was just a patch of land, and your maps don’t show this, but it’s here on ours, I remember learning about them in history lessons. They’re ruins,” Chrom said, “The land isn’t completely unobstructed, you marked this spot on your own map, so the battle would have happened just in front of these ruins. I can't be sure if that explains anything, but I do think it’s not a coincidence that something unexpected happened there when your mother didn’t seem to have all the information about this part of Ylisse.” 

Robin was staring open mouthed at the map, his eyes were wide as he ran his fingers over the site of his mother’s last battle. He looked at Chrom, his eyes were bright. 

“It can’t be a coincidence, you are right.” He said, he stepped closer to Chrom, and took his hands. “Thank you,” he said with a sincerity that burned like his touch, “I never thought to use anything but my mother’s maps, I would have never -- thank you,” he said again, and Chrom felt his heart swell with emotion.

“It’s not -- I mean, it’s not like I did anything, really…” 

Robin shook his head, still holding Chrom’s hands, “No, you did. You have been helping me since before I got here, you are incredible, Chrom.”

Chrom’s heart felt too big for his chest. He was very warm suddenly, and he couldn’t help noticing just how beautiful Robin looked framed in the pale light of the day, his eyes and hair bright. 

He swallowed, “You are very welcome,” he said softly. 

A moment passed where they simply looked at each other, and then Robin seemed to remember he was holding Chrom’s hands and let go. He looked away, and became suddenly interested in straightening the map, Chrom in turn busied himself with clearing his throat. Robin glanced back up at him, “Will you come with me to visit this place? I need to see these ruins for myself.”

“Gladly.” Chrom said, and he meant it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are finally, FINALLY getting to one of the first scenes I envisioned that made me start writing this. Next chapter includes two scenes I've been dyyyyying to write! I hope y'all will like them as much as I do! 
> 
> Also, as someone who is currently in an unrequited love, I'm relating too hard to Chrom. The idea of feeling like you might just lose your head and kiss the person you like cuz they're just so damn beautiful, so you have to constantly remind yourself not to do it, that's real, fam, that's me. So, if things get very pine-y and there's just a lot of yearning, that's partly why ^^;;;
> 
> Anywayyy, thanks for your patience!!! We're getting there!


	10. The Border

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. ORZ

“You plan to go _ where _ ?” Lissa asked in disbelief, “ _ Now _ ?” 

Chrom ignored her, he knew he should have waited until it was just him and Emmeryn to say anything. 

Emmeryn didn’t react to Lissa’s outburst either, but she seemed more concerned than anything. “It must be very important if you need to leave so soon before the declaration. Are you sure you will not require your guard? Or that it cannot wait until after?”

It was precisely because the declaration was so close that Chrom needed to set out tomorrow morning. 

He shook his head in answer, “I really cannot wait. I know you would feel better knowing the details, but please, Emm, trust me. Robin needs to do this, and I need to be with him.”

“Then, I will join you!” Lissa put in, and Chrom shot her a look that was part fond, part exasperated. He had expected her insistence on joining them, and it was always best to travel with a healer, so Chrom only nodded in reply. 

His older sister regarded him for a moment longer, and then Emmeryn sighed lightly, but she was smiling. The expression she gave him was not unlike the one he had just given Lissa. “I  _ do _ trust you, Chrom. I will have someone see that you get everything you need for winter travel.”

Relieved, Chrom smiled too. “Thank you.”

“Be safe, Chrom.”

“I will be.”

  
  
  


Later that evening Chrom knocked softly on Robin’s door. It opened after only a short moment, and Robin stepped back to let him in. Chrom walked into Robin’s sitting room and turned back to him, “Have you finished packing?” 

Robin nodded, though his brow was furrowed. 

“What is it?”

Robin seemed to hesitate, he walked over to sit in a plush, cream coloured armchair by the small fire in his sitting room. “I worry about traveling in the snow. I have almost no experience in this area. And, we are now so close to the date of the declaration, we hardly have room for error.”

Walking over, Chrom sat in the matching armchair opposite Robin. Leaning forward, he said, as reassuring as he could, “We have enough time. We will make it there and back in time.” Then, he smiled a little, “As for traveling in the snow, you may not have experience, but I do. You may leave that to me.”

To his relief, Robin smiled back. The furrow in his brow eased, and Chrom felt not just glad, but proud that his words had done that. “Of course,” Robin said, “I should know by now I am in capable hands.”

The warmth in Robin’s expression and words made Chrom think of the last conversation he had had with Isabela.  _ ‘I would say the looks he gives you are exactly the same as the ones you give him.’  _

But, it wasn’t the right time to think of that. Even if Chrom wanted to venture onto this topic right now, and he didn’t think he had the courage for it just at the moment, it didn’t seem right. Robin was obviously at least still a little worried, and he was thinking of his mother, who had been killed when he was a child. Chrom sometimes blundered in social interactions, but he wasn’t either clueless or insensitive enough to try and talk to Robin about romance at that moment. 

Instead, he let himself feel a familiar pang of longing, and then stood up. “I only came to see that you were all right. We have an early morning tomorrow, we should both get some sleep.”

“Oh,” Robin said, standing as well, looking surprised, and was it just Chrom, or did he seem disappointed? “I - yes, of course, you - yes. We should sleep.” 

“Was there something else - ?”

“No!” Robin shook his head quickly. “No. You have a point, we need sleep.”

There was a slightly awkward moment in which they both simply stood there, and then Chrom made himself move. Robin walked him to the door, and Chrom turned thinking that would be the extent of it, but Robin said, as he moved passed Chrom out of his quarters, “Let me walk you.”

While this was unexpected, it was not unwelcome, and they walked to Chrom’s room together. It was close by, of course, and a very short walk, but it was a lovely gesture nonetheless. It was also the first time Robin had offered to do it. 

Arriving at Chrom’s door, he turned again to Robin, smiling he said, “Make sure you get some sleep.”

“You as well.”

“Goodnight, Robin.”

“Goodnight, Chrom.”

There was another moment of awkward silence as they both simply stood there. It felt to Chrom almost tense, almost expectant. As if Robin was waiting for something from him, like maybe he wanted Chrom to do something, say something, but Chrom had no idea what that might be. They both kept glancing at each other, and then away.

When the moment stretched out too long, Robin turned away, “Sleep well,” he said, before returning to his room. 

  
  
  


They traveled on horseback, in addition to Lissa, they had also brought Fredrick with them. Partly because he was a good fighter, and partly because Chrom could not imagine the kind of reaction he would have if Chrom left him behind. Chrom could have also asked any number of Shepherds to come along as well, they had all stayed to help rebuild the city, and were staying in the area since the declaration was so close, but smaller numbers moved more quickly, as well as drew less attention. 

Unfortunately, the lack of information about the reason for this trip all of a sudden had done nothing to win Robin any favour from Fredrick. While less hostile toward him since Emmeryn’s rescue, he seemed to still be suspicious of the young Prince. More so because Chrom could not adequately explain why they needed to go to the border, and why it had to be now. Chrom had asked Fredrick to trust him, but it felt as if Fredrick had agreed to come more because he  _ didn’t _ trust Chrom’s reasons. One day, when this was all over, Chrom would take Fredrick aside and explain the whole thing to his friend. 

It had snowed a fair amount for this time of winter, but not enough to worry Chrom. The well traveled routes were easy enough to ride on. The landscape was a brilliant white dotted by green coniferous trees capped in snow. Thankfully it was cloudy, so they didn’t have to worry about the sun reflecting off the snow today, and could travel with more ease.

The real worry for him was how well Robin would cope in this weather. He had bundled himself in the warmest gear they had to offer, and while the rest of them managed without a hood or head covering, Robin had his drawn up, and a scarf wrapped tightly over his nose and mouth. It was a little amusing, and it made him a little anxious, but for the most part it simply gave Chrom the urge to tuck Robin into his cloak, and warm him with his body heat. 

“What are you thinking about?”

Chrom looked over at his sister who had pulled her horse over to his right, and was giving him a funny look. “Nothing. I wasn’t thinking of anything.”

Lissa raised her eyebrows, and said skeptically. “I’m not sure ‘nothing’ would make your face look like that.”

Chrom looked away grateful that the cold would be blamed for any colour rising in his face. “Are you cold at all?” He asked, changing the subject.

Lissa shrugged, the gesture just noticeable under her thick cloak. “I hardly feel it, this seems like perfect weather to play in the snow, I think.”

Chrom smiled, and movement to his left caught his attention. Robin had been riding a little ahead of them, and he had turned to shoot them a look now. 

“The only thing this weather is perfect for is to freeze,” Robin grumbled, his voice muffled. 

Lissa and Chrom exchanged a look, they both laughed, and from what Chrom could see of Robin’s face, he thought the other young man was glaring at them. 

“I think you just need time to adjust.” Chrom said, still smiling. 

“We can play in the snow when we return! It will be a great way to change your mind about the cold!”

Chrom had never fully appreciated how expressive Robin’s eyes could be, at the moment he looked highly doubtful, and like he would rather say more explicitly unfavourable things about the cold, but he refrained. Chrom and Lissa exchanged another amused look and Lissa began listing fun activities for them when they got back, and stories that usually involved snowball fights from when they were children. Robin seemed to warm to the idea of frollicking in the snow after that. 

“The first village should not be too far off,” Frederick said a while later. They were edging their way into evening, and the sky would soon start to darken. There were two small villages they needed to pass today, and according to Fredrick they should be able to make the second just at nightfall. 

“Good, thank you, Frederick, it seems we are - “ Chrom broke off, something had caught his attention, and when he turned his head to look, he realized it was movement. There was someone trudging their way through the snow to the right of the path they were following. 

“What - “ Lissa began, and then uttered a small, “Oh!” When she saw the figure. 

As they got closer it was easier to see that whoever was headed their way was holding onto the top of their shoulder. They had been walking with their head down, and suddenly brought it up, the hood of their cloak slipping off, and Chrom could now make out the face of a young woman, her face lit up when she saw them, and she picked up her pace, making directly for them. 

Not having consciously decided to do so, Chrom made his way over to meet her, the rest of his party following his lead, when they got close enough, Chrom slipped off his horse. The young woman raised her empty hands to show she had no weapons, and then swept a deep and somewhat clumsy bow.

“My Lord,” she said, breathlessly, and then turning to Lissa, “My Lady, please, we need help!”

Chrom felt a shock of adrenaline run through him. “Yes, of course, how can we help.”

The young woman shook her head, and looked at Lissa, “Your Highness is a healer, please, my brother, he was in an accident!”

Lissa’s expression was the picture of grim determination, and she replied quickly, “I can help. Which village is yours?” The young woman named a village that was about thirty minutes off their course on horseback, she must have been walking for some time. It was a miracle she had come across them. Lissa turned to Fredricking saying, “Would you help her mount your horse? If you wouldn’t mind, miss, it will be faster.” 

While Fredrick brought his horse around and helped her mount up, Lissa turned back to Chrom. “Fredrick and I will go with her, I cannot refuse my help, but you need to keep going.” 

Both Chrom and Robin began to protest, but Lissa glared at them, more serious than Chrom was used to seeing her. “ _ Listen _ ,” she cut in exasperated, and urgent. “She needs my help, but there is nothing either of you can do for her! Frederick and I will go with her, but you two need to continue on, you said you need to do this, and you only have so much time. If you come with us, you will lose the rest of the day!” She directed her next words at Robin, “Whatever it is that you need to do on the border, I trust you when you say it cannot wait, so go!” 

Chrom still hesitated, and he could feel Robin unsure beside him. 

Lissa made a small noise of irritation, but it was Frederick who broke in. “The Princess has a point, there would be no merit in your coming with us, and if time is of the essence as you say, you cannot afford to join us. Tomorrow we will head directly for the fort and meet you there. Go.”

“Very well,” Chrom said, feeling the seconds tick by the longer he wavered, the young woman they had picked up must feel them like an eternity. “We will meet you there. Take heart, miss, my sister is an accomplished healer.” The young woman nodded, and Chrom looked at Lissa when he said, “Take care.”

The three of them set out, and after a moment Chrom and Robin mounted their horses once more and kept going. They were quiet as they made the rest of their journey alone, both of them too lost in thought to have much to say. 

As much as Chrom understood Lissa’s reasoning, as much as he  _ knew _ it was correct, he couldn’t help feeling wrong about leaving someone in need. There was nothing Chrom could do to heal anyone, nothing more than rudimentary bandaging, but turning his back on those in need was the exact opposite of every instinct in him. 

“I’m sorry,” Robin said suddenly as they neared the village they needed to stop in for the night. 

Startled, Chrom turned to look at him. Robin was looking directly ahead, and his hood completely blocked Robin’s face from view. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“It is because of me that we cannot go and help that young woman. You want to go and see with your own eyes that everything is well, I know it, I feel the same way. I’m sorry that because of me, you chose not to.” 

“If we had not come here with you, we never would have come across her in the first place.” Robin turned to look at him, and Chrom could see surprise in his expressive eyes. “I trust Lissa, she will do everything that can be done to help that family. All I would be able to do is stand around and worry, at least like this, I can still help you.” Chrom said, smiling a little, and then pointed to one of the buildings that he could now see clearly. “I think that is our inn.”

Robin looked at him a moment longer, and then turned his attention to the inn Chrom had pointed to. 

*

The village they stopped in was just big enough to warrant having an inn, and Robin hadn’t thought they would need to worry about the possibility of not acquiring lodgings when they set out, but that wasn’t quite the case. In a way, it worked out that their party had split up, because when they spoke with the innkeeper, she informed them that there was only one room available. Their arrival coincided with a couple of merchants' seasonal travels, and they had already taken the inns three other rooms. 

But, then again, perhaps it didn’t work out so well. Perhaps sharing a room with Chrom would actually be easier if his sister and friend were there as well. 

The innkeeper gave them a key, and she had a young boy bring their things up to their room for them. They stayed in the small and sparse common room to eat something before they retired for the night. The room was decorated with a few landscape paintings, the floors and furniture were plain and wooden, everything looked well worn, but well cared for. 

It seemed to Robin that this might be the only place in Ylisse where they did not recognize Chrom on sight. No one deferred to him, the innkeeper had not fallen over herself to serve her Prince, which meant that the merchants who were already seated at the best tables by the fire did not give up their seats for them. Robin and Chrom sat at a small table in a corner of the room, close to the stairs, but neither complained. 

“How is your sister?” Robin asked, after they were served their food. They had been sitting in a silence that wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t as easy as silences between them could be. “I have not had the opportunity to see her recently.” 

Chrom chewed for a moment before he replied, “She is well. She mentioned something to me about that as well,” he smiled a little, “She misses you.”

There was probably no real reason Robin should feel so pleased about that, but he did. “I miss her as well, you have a very lovely family, Chrom.” Robin looked down to smile ruefully at his plate, “I envy you that.” 

“If we married, they could be your family too.” 

Robin looked up so sharply he nearly hurt himself. Chrom wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at the cup of water in his hand, and laughed awkwardly. 

“I apologize,” Chrom put the cup down and scratched his cheek sheepishly. “That was in poor taste.” 

The realization that Chrom was only joking dawned on Robin much more slowly than it should have. Something quite sharp and bitter sat uncomfortably in Robin’s stomach, his heart was beating hard, and he tried for a laugh too. 

“I’m content having you all as friends.” Robin replied, busying himself with breaking off a piece of bread on his plate. 

The rest of the conversation was broken and stilted. It felt as if they were out of sync. At some point after the attack on Emmeryn they had fallen out of step, he wasn’t sure what had caused it, it seemed as if something in Chrom had changed and Robin didn’t know what. He wanted to address it, he wanted to fix it, and he wanted things to be easy between them again. 

And, at the same time, Robin was aware of how dangerous it was to want. 

When they finally went upstairs they were faced with the reality of their shared room situation. The room, like the rest of the inn, was furnished with plain wooden furniture. Their things already sat in a corner by the door, a small table held a basin and a pitcher, as well as a neatly folded towel. There was a small desk and chair with an oil lamp burning on the desk, there was a small fireplace too, but most of the room was taken up by the bed. Just one bed, big enough for two people, if they didn’t mind what was bound to be a rather cozy fit. 

Robin avoided Chrom’s eye as he walked over to the desk and draped his cloak over the chair. 

“You should take the bed.” Chrom’s voice sounded even, but when Robin turned to look at him, he found he didn’t look as composed as he sounded. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Robin said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You are -” Robin broke off, he almost said, ‘You are a Prince,’ but realized that Chrom was not going to accept that argument. “You are being ridiculous,” he said instead, he gestured to the room at large, with its bare furnishings and the minimal space it provided. “Where would you sleep?”

Chrom looked around, as if there was more of the room to see then what they were already looking at. 

“There,” Chrom said, gesturing to a space in front of the fireplace. If Chrom lay in exactly the right spot, he might be able to fit there without having to curl up. Robin gave Chrom a look, he could tell the Ylissean Prince knew how his suggestion sounded, but also that he was completely serious. “I have slept in worse conditions, it will only be for one night,”

Robin shook his head. “This hardly makes any sense, Chrom. The most sensible solution is that we share the bed.”

It was clear from his expression that this idea hadn’t even crossed Chrom’s mind. Was it wrong that it had been the first thing Robin had thought of? He didn’t dwell on that. 

“I am  _ not _ about to fight you for a place on the floor, since I know you will not simply let me sleep there either. So,” Robin gestured to the bed. “We may as well share.” 

“I - That - If - “ Chrom stammered. It was Chrom’s reaction more than anything that was making Robin blush, but he had already suggested it. It felt to him that this was hardly an issue, it wasn’t as if he had never had to share a tent with anyone before, and this was close enough to that. 

He refused to react to Chrom’s bashfulness, and adopted a business-like tone. “There’s no need to fuss over sleep.” Robin said as he turned and took off his tactician’s coat, and then moved to drape that too over the back of the chair. He didn’t look at Chrom as he began to undress, but he could feel his movement, and when Robin peeked at the other young man over his shoulder, he saw that Chrom had turned his back to Robin, and was beginning to undress as well. Good. Robin was determined to ignore any awkwardness, they would push past it with sheer force of will if need be.

There was only the sound of clothes rustling, and the faint clink of metal as they undressed. When Robin turned back, he found Chrom sitting on the bed unlacing his boots. He, like Robin, had taken most of his layers off, leaving just his trousers and thin undershirt. 

Robin tried to concentrate on the traveling they would do tomorrow as he used the small basin in the room to wash up. It was harder than it should have been to focus all of his attention on it, he was strangely aware of Chrom, and the fact that he was probably looking at Robin while he got ready for bed. This wasn’t really something he had ever had an audience for, and Robin just barely missed scratching himself on a nail that stuck out on the side of the table the basin sat on. 

When he was done he walked over to the other side of the bed, and began unlacing his boots. Chrom went over to wash up as well, and Robin made an effort not to stare at him, concentrating instead on his laces. It was a strangely intimate experience that didn’t change with Robin’s determined seriousness. He heard Chrom fumble at the water basin, drop something repeatedly, and Robin made a point of not looking at him. Though, now he wasn’t sure if not looking at him was worse. He let out a small sigh, Robin felt so foolish and off balance, in that moment he couldn’t remember what it was like to act completely normally. 

The sound of Chrom’s sharp intake of breath finally made Robin turn to look at him. He was frowning down at his hand, which Robin could just see had blood welling on it. 

“Are you all right?” Robin asked, already standing and taking a step toward him. 

“I hit the nail,” Chrom gestured to the same protruding nail Robin had almost hurt himself against too, “It’s hardly more than a scratch.”

Robin shook his head, “Still, you can’t let it get infected. Sit down, I’ll clean it.” 

“You don’t need to,” Chrom replied, but Robin had already walked over to their bags and rummaged for bandages and ointment.

Robin didn’t say anything to that, just brought what he needed over to the bed where Chrom had sat down despite his protest and then held out his hand. Chrom placed his right hand palm up in Robin’s extended hand, Chrom had been right, it was just more than a scratch. It looked as if he had hit a small vein, the cut itself wasn’t bad, but the bleeding made it seem worse. Robin poured ointment onto a clean cloth and gently dabbed at the scratch. 

“Thank you,” Chrom said, his voice quiet. 

Robin looked up, and almost wished he hadn’t. Chrom was very close, his gaze was soft, and the way he smiled at Robin made him swallow audibly. “It’s easier for me to do than for you,” Robin replied, trying for an even tone. 

“Still,” Chrom’s voice was as warm as his hand, “I appreciate it.” 

Robin could feel his heart beat in his chest, he tried to focus on his work, but he could feel himself losing the battle he had been fighting for some time. Robin could feel how much he wanted to give in. It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying. 

When Chrom’s hand was cleaned and bandaged, Robin put their medical supplies away. “We will have to wait for Lissa to heal you properly, but that will do for now.” Robin said coming back to the bed. He stopped at the foot, realizing that it was now time to get in. A second later Chrom seemed to realize that too, he looked away from Robin, his neck going red, and he ruffled the hair at the back of his head. 

“Uh,” Chrom began, and gestured to the bed, not looking at it or at Robin, “Go - go ahead.” 

It wasn’t necessary that they take turns, but Robin didn’t want to argue. He got stiffly under the covers, feeling his own face heat up as Chrom blushed harder. Gods, this was so idiotic, he almost wanted to laugh. 

“I’ll just - the lamp -” Chrom hastily stepped over to the desk, and blew out the lamp burning there. The only light now was from the fireplace, the one window in the room was heavily curtained, and Chrom seemed to stumble in the lack of light, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to look directly at the bed or at Robin, and seemed to hold his breath as he gingerly got under the covers. Robin, who had laid down after the lamp was blown out was watching him with growing amusement, it helped combat his embarrassment. 

Reaching for one of the blankets that had slipped down, Chrom accidentally took Robin’s hand, he made a noise of surprise and jerked back with so much force Robin heard a sudden thump and felt the blankets pulled off him as Chrom fell off the bed. Robin scrambled up and went over to the edge of bed to look at Chrom rubbing the back of his head, and wincing slightly. 

“Are you all right?” Robin asked for the second time that night. 

Finally, Chrom managed to look back at him. “More embarrassed than anything,” he muttered. 

For some reason, Robin found this very funny, hilarious, even. He tried to suppress his laughter, but he couldn’t manage it. Suddenly he was laughing out loud, he felt the tension in him lessen, “S- sorry,” Robin managed to get out in his laughter, and reached out a slightly shaky hand to help Chrom up, who was now chuckling a little himself. Chrom got into the bed again and they straightened up the blankets. “I wasn’t laughing  _ at _ you,” Robin clarified, smiling at Chrom, the two of them sitting up in the bed.

Chrom shook his head, “That’s all right, it would be fine if you did.”

“No, it’s just,” Robin gestured a bit uselessly, “This is all just so - silly.”

Chrom was smiling too, “I’ve been acting strange, huh?”

“It’s a strange situation to be in.”

They smiled at each other for a moment. 

“Well,” Robin said, still a little awkward, but with more ease than before, “We should sleep.”

They laid themselves down, on their backs they couldn’t help but press their arms together. 

“Good night, Robin,” Chrom said, voice quiet.

“Good night, Chrom.”

  
  
  


Robin hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since he was quite young, when he would beg his mother to stay with him after a bad dream, or when she watched over him when he was sick. 

This was certainly not like that. His mother’s presence had been comforting in a way he could adjust to without even thinking. Chrom’s presence wasn’t uncomfortable, but instead of lulling him to sleep, it made Robin hyper aware. He was warm, so warm, for once Robin didn’t feel like he was freezing. He felt like a cat bathing in sunlight, he wanted to curl up against Chrom’s warmth and purr. Robin was afraid that he would go to sleep and wake to find himself doing just that. 

He was very aware of the hard muscle of Chrom’s arm pressed against his own, of his solid presence. Robin couldn’t stop thinking about the embrace they had shared, Chrom’s mouth against his skin, and how easy it would be to simply roll over onto him. 

Robin screwed his eyes shut, his face burning.  _ Stop, stop, stop! Gods, what is wrong with you?  _ He felt like an overimaginitive child, these feelings were coming up too close to the surface, and even though he felt as if he should be able to simply throw a lever and turn them off, he couldn’t do it. 

What if -- what if he  _ did _ marry Chrom? What if it wasn’t just a ruse? What if he shook him awake right now and told him so? 

Robin’s heart beat picked up and he took a deep quiet breath. He felt out of control. He didn’t like how little he was able to rein in his feelings. He didn’t like that someone else had so much power over him. Despite anything Robin might feel, even putting aside the fact that once he renounced his claim as heir he was no one, he couldn’t let himself be subject to another’s whims again. As much as he loved Ylisse, as much as he enjoyed living in the palace, he couldn’t stay there, being a dutiful prince had never been his own choice. 

Following this train of thought made it easier for Robin to calm his beating heart, and he carefully turned over on his side, facing away from Chrom. He closed his eyes, and after some time, finally slept. 

  
  


In the morning Robin was up at first light. Slowly, and carefully he eased out of the bed, making sure his movements didn’t wake Chrom, who was sleeping deeply, lying on his back, an arm over his forehead, his mouth open slightly. Robin smiled a little, he looked like the picture of restful sleep. Robin looked away, and quietly gathered his things, and then left soundlessly to use the shared bathing room to get ready. 

Despite how early it was, the innkeeper had also clearly been up for some time, because when Robin went down she offered him fresh bread for breakfast. Robin ate in contemplative silence, finding it was easier than he would have expected to keep his head empty of intrusive thoughts. 

He was on his second cup of tea when Chrom came down. He was dressed for the day as well, but sleep still lingered around his eyes. 

Smiling, Robin said, “Good morning.”

“‘Morning,” Chrom replied, stifling a yawn. 

The morning passed quietly, easily. While they didn’t speak much, this silence was much more comfortable than the previous day, Robin felt as though he could breathe easier. 

They collected their things soon after, settled their bill, and set out again. Lissa and Fredrick wouldn’t be catching up to them until they reached the fort, but there was no point in lingering. 

Once back on the road, Chrom looked more alert and awake. Robin smiled behind the scarf he had wrapped around his nose and mouth again, still unable to understand how Chrom could stand to have his whole head uncovered in this cold. As they went Chrom started telling him about a dream he had had the night before. 

“There was a young man --” Chrom broke off, frowning thoughtfully, “Young woman?” He shook his head, “They had a sword identical to mine! Which is impossible, Falchion is the only one of its kind, and can only be wielded by the royal family, that is, those that bear the mark of Naga.” He gestured to his shoulder, as if anyone who knew Chrom didn’t know exactly where his mark was. “They fought exactly as I do, it was like battling my own shadow.”

“You’re sure you weren’t fighting yourself in your dream?”

Chrom shook his head, “They wore a mask, but they did not look like me regardless. Their build was slighter,” He glanced over at Robin, “Like yours.”

Robin raised his eyebrows. “Well, pardon me for being  _ slight _ .”

“What? No! I mean, yes, you  _ are _ but it isn’t - you are not - “

Robin laughed and waved a hand as Chrom continued to stumble over his words. “I was only teasing. We cannot all be as beautifully well muscled as you are.” 

The words left his mouth without passing through his brain first, and it took them both a second to process them. 

Robin’s blush was blessedly hidden behind his thick scarf, but Chrom’s cold flushed cheeks took on a deeper red. His eyes sparkled however, and he smiled slowly at Robin. “Did you just call me beautiful?” 

It was Robin’s turn to stammer. By Naga’s grace, they were arriving at the fort, and the call of guards on watch put an end to that conversation, though it didn’t stop Chrom from smiling like the cat that ate the canary. 

“Who goes there?” A voice bellowed. 

“Prince Chrom of Ylisse, and Prince Robin of Plegia!” Chrom called back. 

There was a second’s pause, and then, “Enter, Highnesses!”

The gate was opened for them, and they rode in. In the courtyard stablehands and servants came to help them dismount and stable their horses. 

A man approached them who was clearly not a servant, more likely a secretary from the way he was dressed. He came out without a cloak, and Robin shivered just looking at him. 

“Welcome, my Prince, Prince Robin.” The man bowed. “My Lord Harold thought you might pay us a visit, though you are later than he expected. Please, follow me, I’m sure you want to rest after your travels.”

Robin and Chrom exchanged a look, and then quickly followed the man. 

“Lord Harold was expecting us? Did my sister send word we were coming?”

“Not to my knowledge, Your Highness.” 

Robin and Chrom exchanged another look as they walked into the fort. 

“Then,” Chrom asked, “How did he know we would be coming?”

The man turned to look at them and smiled. “I’m afraid I am not privy to the information my Lord receives. He is away at the moment, but expected to return in the evening. In the meantime, you may ask me if you need anything, Your Highness.”

It didn’t take someone of Robin’s cleverness to realize something was not right. Robin felt uneasy, but having come here unannounced and uninvited, but clearly expected, it might make things more troublesome for them if they turned around and left right away. 

“Thank you,” Robin said, speaking up now. “I’m afraid we didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh, forgive my forgetfulness, Your Highness. You may call me Vasare, I am steward here in my Lord’s absence.”

They had stopped to speak in a hall just passed the courtyard entrance. The fort was only marginally warmer than being outside, built of rock and stone it didn’t insulate very well. Still, Robin pulled down the scarf from his mouth to speak more easily.

“We would like to look through your archives, or any records that the fort houses.”

Vasare looked instantly apologetic, “Oh dear, Your Highness has asked for the one thing we cannot provide you.”

“Cannot, or will not?” Chrom asked, his expression serious.

Vasare spread his hands, “Cannot, of course, my Prince. The records on activities the fort keeps were recently lost in a fire. But, surely my Prince and his betrothed did not come all this way to look through old papers? Come, let me offer you a hot meal. If you will follow me, Highnesses.”

They did follow him, but not after exchanging yet another look. Robin had a bad feeling about this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we can all agree that Chrom is a beefcake, and the only one who isn't aware of that fact is Chrom himself, lmao. Also, the fort they're in and "Harold" are made up, so if you're like, "Where, and whomst?" That's why =P
> 
> Anyway, heyyyyy, I'm back! =D Listen, I would NEVER abandon this fic!!!! Especially not when it's so close to being done!!! Three, maybe four chapters depending on how long chapters get, and then this will be done! Now that all my writing events are done, and everything I was working on before is finished, I can concentrate on this!! I'll do my best to update more frequently. At last I can make a promise I feel confident in keeping, which is I won't let months go by for the next chapter this time. 
> 
> Thanks so much for your patience!!! And, thank you for all your kind words, they really mean a lot <333
> 
> Btw, I made up a new [tumblr](snowfallswrites.tumblr.com) for writing related things, and updates! Excerpts from chapters in progress will go there, check it out if you want! =D


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